Never Far From Trouble
by jibber59
Summary: The new young lady in Four Corners has stolen Buck's heart. Is that all she is after? Her history with another of the Seven might indicate there is more to this. NOTE: Takes place about 3 months after The Ghosts of the Confederacy. Early in canon.
1. Chapter 1

The countryside was starting to look more familiar, which meant home was getting closer and this abysmal, cramped and overheated stagecoach ride would soon terminate.

Home. What a strange word to have added to his vocabulary. Well, not so much added as to have found a use for. Ezra wasn't about to start fooling himself. This aberration was, at best, a temporary deviation from his norm. His experience had taught him that in the same sense that no good deed ever went unpunished, (a theory he avoided testing as often as possible), no good thing ever lasted. It was only a matter of time until fate, circumstance or reality caught up with him. With luck, he'd have time to pack his bags, say farewell and ride off with vague promises of returning some day soon. Far more likely that he would skulk out of town under the dark cover of night, leaving no trail and no incentive for anyone to search him out. Yes, running out again. Well, one should always go with one's strengths, and running was definitely his. It was one he had perfected thanks to a lifetime of practice.

A particularly hard bump broke Ezra out of his reverie. This type of trip would be so much easier if there was a train that went to Four Corners. He laughed to himself at the thought. There was barely enough town there to provide incentive for the stage to pass through. The notion of a railway was absurd. Granted, there were signs the town might grow. There was a great deal of good land in the area, and ranches and farms were being settled on a fairly consistent basis now. The town itself was even showing signs of growth even in the short time he'd been there. Having the calming influence of lawmen in the town may have been a factor.

He laughed again. Calming indeed. Never had he encountered a group of men less calming that the ensemble who guarded that town. Alone, any one of them was bound to stir some kind of trouble or mischief. Combined, they were just this side of being a whirlwind of chaos. And yet somehow, things seemed to work out.

And somehow, he had managed to fit in. It was not exactly a perfectly tailored fit, but it was working well enough. Which was why, to his complete surprise, he was headed back. He was willing to bet (given that it was pretty much a sure thing) that at least some of the team would be surprised by his return. Nathan definitely would, as the healer tended to assume the worst of Ezra and was usually reasonably accurate in that assumption. Buck would probably be at least moderately dumbfounded, while Vin would likely be baffled, but possibly pleased. JD, with the eternal optimism that manifested only in the young or naïve, would state he had fully expected the return, and Josiah would simply say that he knew Ezra would be back, as it was foretold by crows, or coyotes, or some similarly absurd sign.

Then there was Chris Larabee. He would be watching as the coach arrived, waiting to see if the promise in the telegram was right, or if their rogue gambler had again betrayed the tenuous faith that had been put in him. And if he wanted to believe that it was his power of intimidation that inspired the return to Four Corners, well that was no skin of Ezra's nose. He knew that he came back because he wanted to, and that was enough.

Wanted to? Had to? There wasn't really that much difference in the two thoughts, was there? His financial status being what it was at the moment the idea of familiar territory with a guaranteed income, ridiculously modest though it may be, was a comfort to his larcenous soul. Why he had been foolish enough to invest any of his meager savings into this trip remained a mystery to him. He supposed he had been to well conditioned over the years of responding to the commands of his mother. The siren call of untold wealth didn't hurt either, although it irritated him that he was so easily lured by that promise, given the source.

"_Come to St. Louis. You won't regret the opportunity. You will regret not coming_." The telegram had been straightforward and to anyone who didn't know Maude Standish, relatively innocent. Ezra had been subject to far too many regrets at his mother's hand to make that mistake. She needed him for something, and to seek him out this way meant it was likely lucrative enough to be worth the effort. Convincing Chris of the importance of the trip was another matter.

"You playing some kind of game with us Standish?" Had it been any of the others stating they needed to leave town on a family matter not only would he have had no questions but would have been offering whatever assistance was possible. The challenge of being smooth enough to be convincing without being so slick as to raise further doubts was nothing new for him and it took only a few minutes of persuasion to get the nod he was seeking. He tried not to dwell on the question of what he would have done if Chris hadn't backed down.

Stage and train allowed him to take the lengthy journey in what passed for comfort in this part of the world. It was a few long days with no opportunity presenting itself for even a moderately decent card game. He had resorted to escaping into literature, rereading some of the classics he had so loved as a child. He felt kinship then to the Count of Monte Christo, Robinson Crusoe, Odysseus and even Don Quixote that continued to exist to this day. As enjoyable as that had been, it proved to be a wasted effort.

Arriving at the Grand Inn, where he was to meet Maude, he was handed a note instead. "_I am so sorry my darlin' boy, but I have had to leave town. My suite is paid for until the 21__st__, so you really should take advantage. Profitable card games can be found in several nearby establishments, and most of the locals are decidedly unskilled. Wonderful opportunity for you to escape that dreadful existence you have in that tiny backwater of a town_." Obviously she had briefed the staff on this as well, as he was offered the key immediately. "Your suite includes breakfast and dinner in our dining room sir. You have a most kind and thoughtful mother."

Something was wrong. Kind and thoughtful were not words commonly ascribed to Maude, and it was highly unlikely she would have volunteered the information he was her son under any normal circumstances. Not that it was easy to determine what passed for normal circumstances where she was concerned.

The room had yielded no clues. Nothing indicated Maude had been here at all. He checked all of their traditional hiding places where notes or supplies could be. Too many times in the past that had been the primary method of communication when there were running a game. There was nothing stuck to the bottom of any drawers, no notes hidden under or inside anything and the floorboards all seemed secure. The room was elegant. Not necessarily the finest in town, but certainly reflecting the manner in which she preferred to live. So why would she have left it for him? Generosity did not rank amoung her virtues. Come to think of it, he wasn't certain what virtues he could list for her.

He sat on the bed for some time, mulling over the possibilities. Yes, she might have been called away urgently, or been run out of town. But if that was the case, when would she have found the time to write the note? And if she was forced out by the law, would the hotel be honouring the request? Unlikely. Most relevant to his suspicions, other that the simple fact that he knew his mother too well, was the offer itself. Maude would not have surrendered the room. This wasn't some cheap accommodation, and if she had paid for the stay, she'd have demanded a refund. If someone else had been paying, she'd have found a way to ensure she got that credit as well. There was simply no legitimate power on earth that would see Maude Standish leave empty handed. So, there was an hidden agenda of some sort. The problem was that Ezra was damned if he could figure out what that was. Instincts, honed by experience, told him one thing. He needed to get the hell out of this place, and for that matter, this town.

Despising the fact he'd be retracing his steps so quickly, he booked his return trip on the next available train and made alternate arrangements for accommodation for the night he would have to spend in town. Not surprisingly, the Grand Inn had been unwilling to provide him the requested refund, and since he was anxious to maintain as low a profile as possible, he didn't push the issue. The same need to be inconspicuous kept him from the gaming tables, which was quite possibly the worst aspect of the whole misadventure. He watched from the bar as rube after rube played poorly in front of him. When the temptation was close to being too much to cope with, he tossed back the dregs of his drink and headed to his room several blocks away, ready for an early start out of this place and back to familiar territory.

And now, here he was approaching Four Corners and finding himself in the unaccustomed circumstance of feeling he was back where he should be. How that could have happened in such a short time was perplexing, and a tad disturbing.

He was actually looking forward to seeing the reactions he'd been wondering about, and not just to prove to himself how accurate his predictions were. Tonight, there would be dinner with at least a few of the men followed by an evening of cards. A more friendly game than he preferred, with lower stakes than he favoured. But it wasn't about the poker, it was about the camaraderie. Buck would brag of his latest conquests and Vin would question the veracity of the tales. Nathan might share news of some medical trick he had learned from an outdated, but nevertheless helpful publication. Josiah would make his regular, and futile, effort to draft the men into giving up their day off to work on the church, while Chris would make certain everyone was aware of the next duty they were assigned in their peacekeeping positions. He would then work at finding out if there was an ulterior motive as to why Ezra had left, and more importantly, why he had returned ahead of schedule (or at all?). All of this happening while JD interrupted with useless bits of trivia and terrible jokes. Yes, it would be a satisfying evening.

Some twenty minutes later the stage jostled to a stop in front of the Ritz Hotel to let the passengers out. The others were being allowed only enough time to stretch their legs and enjoy a fast lunch. Ezra was the only one staying in town.

He waited for his bag to be handed down, looking up the street as he did. As expected, Chris was leaning against the door frame at the jail house, watching the activity. It was always best to watch the new arrivals in town. If he was surprised that Ezra was actually back, he didn't let on. Ezra raised a hand to the brim of his hat by way of greeting and got a quick nod as response. Not the warmest reception he'd ever had, but far from the worst.

JD's enthusiasm was at the opposite end of the spectrum. The young man all but bounded up to the stage, slapping Ezra so solidly on the back that he almost succeeded in knocking him over.

"Really Mr. Dunne. Such exuberance is entirely misplaced and decidedly inappropriate."

"Aw, don't fuss Ez. It's just good to have you back is all. Things tend to get a bit dull when you ain't around."

"A fact for which I am sure Mr. Larabee is eternally grateful." He took his bag from the driver and began the stroll toward the saloon, where he intended to enjoy a quick drink before retiring to the comfort of his room to freshen up and recover from the trip. Seeing the Chris was watching his every step, he had the sinking feeling that he was not going to be allowed that luxury of free time.

"Where are the rest of our number Mr. Dunne? It seems unnaturally quiet."

JD stopped walking for a moment, trying to recall where patrols had been assigned for the day. "Vin has patrol out by the ridge and Josiah is riding south. Nathan was out late last night –Mr. Cooper got tossed from his horse and needed tending. He's okay though."

"Is Mr. Larabee standing guard over guests in our hotel for evil doers, or has he merely positioned himself at the jail to monitor the comings and goings in our community?"

JD paused long enough to make sure he understood what was being asked. "No, the jail's empty. Chris is just – well like you said – watching."

"That would seem to account for all of our number save one. Where might Mr. Wilmington be? Or should I assume he is up to his usual habit of keeping company with a young lady."

The look on JD's face gave Ezra a moment of confusion. Eagerness disappeared to be replaced by a touch of melancholy. "Yeah, he's off, but not in the way you're thinking. Believe it or not, he's on a picnic. With Clarice." The tone as he spoke her name told him exactly what JD's opinion of that situation was.

The name was unfamiliar to him, not that he was up to date on all of the young women in town, unlike Buck. "I cannot say I recall a Miss Clarice in our midst."

"Nah, you don't know her. She got into town the day after you left. Supposed to be travelling further west, but said she was feeling poorly and decided to take a couple days away from traveling."

They had reached the saloon. The combination of the dejected look on JD's face along with his own curiosity about the situation inspired Ezra to break with his normal characteristic approach to such matters and actually offer to buy the young man a beer. Besides, he harboured the faint hope that as long as he was bolstering JD's spirits, Chris might be less likely to assign him any work, at least for the remainder of the day.

He directed JD to sit while he dropped his bag upstairs and came back down to head for the bar, only to hesitate slightly when he saw Chris at the table as well. Keeping his sigh to himself, he ordered two beers, and something more suitable for himself and returned to the table.

"Welcome back Ezra. Wasn't expecting you."

"You did receive the telegram, did you not?"

Chris nodded as he sipped at the beer. "Thought you might have taken your time a bit is all. We set the schedule without you in it, so I figured you'd take advantage of the break."

After a moment of debating whether any of that was meant as some kind of personal attack Ezra decided it wasn't and smiled in response. "The anticipation of returning to the allure and delights of our fair hamlet more than surpassed any desire to linger elsewhere."

"Yeah, we do have a special kind of charm here, don't we?"

With a look that clearly indicated what he thought of the comment, Ezra returned the conversation to the matter of interest. "Mr. Dunne informs me that the impossible has happened in my absence. While it is not unexpected that Mr. Wilmington has expressed his interest in a new female in town, our young colleague's reaction would imply there is more to it that his normal – inclinations."

"Oh, he is definitely smitten. It's not like he hasn't come close to being serious about a lady or two in the past, but this one feels different."

JD gulped a sizable portion of his beer. "So different that he doesn't seem to have time for anything, or anyone else."

"Come now Mr. Dunne. Surely you do not begrudge the man his opportunity for true love?"

"Nothing wrong with love Ezra, but he's making a fool of himself. Fawning over her, and spending all of his time – and his pay – on her. Not right, that's all."

"Would that be the same kind of attention you focus on Miss Wells whenever she is visiting town?"

Looking somewhat abashed, JD nodded slightly before defending himself. "But she only comes to town about once a week. This Clarice is always around."

"Stop frettin' JD. She won't stay forever. She's got business to deal with in San Francisco, so she'll be on her way soon enough."

As hard as it was to imagine, his face fell even further. "Maybe, but I have the feelin' she just might be taking Buck with her."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

Buck made his way toward the saloon, whistling and smiling as he nodded at everyone he passed. Life just didn't get much better than this. Warm sunny day, peace and quiet in town and dinner plans in a very short while with a beautiful woman. And that was after spending most of the day with her. True, he was going to have to make up some patrol time, since he'd swapped out with Vin to have the day. And he owed Josiah and Nathan as well, but that was a matter for some other time. Right now, all was right with the world.

It dawned on him as he reached the door that Ezra had been due back today. Maybe he could coax the gambler into taking his next patrol for him, if this perfect picnic weather continued. He knew he was wasting his time asking Chris, who for some reason saw the schedules as carved in stone where he was concerned. Nothing short of an act of God could convince him to change around. And JD seemed to have some kind of a bug up his butt lately as well. Could barely get a civil answer from him, let alone getting any kind of favour. He supposed he should try to find out what was wrong. Maybe the kid had had a fight with Casey. That would be a shame, especially now when, as far a he was concerned, the whole world should be in love.

Maybe he could play on Ezra's guilt about being out of town for so long. No, that wouldn't work. It assumed the gambler would feel guilt over that. Or over anything. An unlikely scenario. There was little doubting that annoyances such as a guilty conscience, or even a conscience, ever came near Ezra. Made life easier for him, albeit less than pleasant for most of the people he had to deal with. Buck had to admit to having a bit of the rogue in his own make-up, so tried to avoid judging others too harshly, but there were times he wondered if Ezra Standish really cared about anyone other than Ezra Standish. True, he had come back to help them in the fight against Anderson and his men, but only after running out in the first place. If he'd stayed at his post, the whole battle would have gone differently which would have suited him nicely since he'd been pretty badly hurt that day.

He was actually somewhat surprised that not only had the gambler come to Four Corners with them but stuck around. And well past the time needed to earn his pardon from Judge Travis. What possessed him to take such actions remained a mystery to the remainder of the team, but so far things were working out. And they all agreed, whatever else you might want to say about him, Ezra was a good man to have on your side in a gunfight.

He walked into the saloon, allowing a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darker space. As was expected, Chris and Josiah sat at the corner table, where they could keep an eye on the goings-on in the room. Things were relatively quiet at the moment, but that could change at the drop of a hat. Or more likely at the dealing of a card. And the man who would be at the centre of that sat now at his usual table, ready for action, but dealing out solitaire hands as he awaited his opportunity.

"Quiet day Ez?" Buck pulled out a chair and sat, broad smile coming to his face as Ezra grimaced slightly at the moniker.

"Two syllables really should not prove so challenging to you Mr. Wilmington. And before you waste your undoubtedly limited remaining energies in an effort to persuade me to cover your duties for tomorrow, allow me to inform you that our fearless leader has already assigned me a laborious and more certainly tedious excursion as recompense for my recent absence." He shuffled the deck and began dealing another game for himself.

"Ah now Ez – Ezra. That ain't fair. I come over here to sit down with a friend and catch you up on things, and you make an accusation like that. I think I am offended."

"If you are uncertain, then the wound cannot be too severe."

Debating for a moment whether Ezra was just messing with him, Buck decided it was safest to simply move away from the conversation. Besides, he had his new favourite subject matter he could talk about instead.

"So, did the fellas fill you in on what's been happening since you've been away?"

Knowing what he was asking, and feeling somewhat contrary, Ezra responded. "Certainly. I have been told that Mr. Cooper lost an argument with his horse. Mrs. Potter has a new shipment of bandanas in, none of which will be up to my standards based on based on past experience. There is talk of a new chef for what passes for a restaurant in our town, but the chances that we will be fortunate enough to acquire one whose skills are deserving of the title are so infinitesimal they are not worth calculating." He gave Buck a wide smile. "Does that more or less sum up the matters worthy of note?"

Recognizing when he was being played, Buck just kept grinning. Something as insignificant as Ezra messing with him wasn't nearly enough to ruin his day. "Well, aside from the fact you left out the only thing worth talking about, that's a pretty fair summary of what you've been missing. Guess the others told you about Clarice."

"Not in any significant detail, other than to say your more traditional social life has been obliterated by your need to be in her proximity." He paused as he watched Buck analyze the sentence. "You are not spending as much time with your traditional friends. Mr. Dunne, in particular, appears to feel somewhat slighted."

"That's what's got him all out-a-sorts? Well hell, that's just crazy."

"Perhaps, but nevertheless true. So, is this young lady worth invoking the ire or our young colleague?"

The starry-eyed glaze that overtook Buck's face was all the answer he needed. Whoever this newcomer was, she had clearly done the impossible in capturing the heart of a confirmed Lothario. It was enough to make him wonder if there might be truth to the suggestion that should this young woman leave he would be on his way as well. Ezra had never considered that Buck would be the first of their number to part ways. Removing himself from the equation, his money had been on Vin in his ongoing quest to clear his name, or Nathan who would also be following the call of the heart.

"She's something special Ez. I've known a lot of women in my life. I mean a whole lot of women. But Clarice – she's something else altogether. A real lady – you know?"

"I am familiar with the concept."

Buck went on as if nothing had been said. "She's not like anyone I've met before. At least, not anyone I've been attracted to. There is just something about her that – well that draws a man in, you know?"

"I understand she is only staying in our town for a short time?"

Buck frowned slightly. "Not if I have a say in the matter. She's supposed to be heading out west for some kind of family thing. Her folks left Atlanta for San Francisco after the war and she is supposed to join them. I'm doin' my damnedest to change her mind."

"Atlanta? You mean to tell me there is a visitor from the south in our midst? Strange no one mentioned that detail to me." A small sense of melancholy coloured his tone. He'd been away from his roots for far too long, and while much had changed since, there would always be a part of him that longed for those days again. While his reality was far from the image of mint juleps at the plantation Sunday barbeque, he had not lost his idealistic fantasy of what his life might have been. Just the thought of hearing a soft southern accent was enough to stir the emotions again.

"I'm sure she'd be pleased to meet with you Ez. What with both of you bein' from the same part of the country and all, you'd have something to talk about. Maybe you could join us for dinner?"

The invitation didn't sound even remotely sincere and Ezra was beginning to understand JD's earlier comments. Clearly Buck had no desire to share his time with anyone else. And it was quite possible he felt the same about sharing her company with the others as well.

"While your invitation is most tempting, I must regretfully decline. If I am to rise at the ungodly hour assigned to me by Mr. Larabee, I fear I will need to make it an early evening and retire to the comfort of my own bed to recuperate sufficiently for my duties. Please extend my apologies to Miss…?" It was only then he realized he still did not know the woman's full name.

"Foster. Clarice Foster. Don't suppose you know the name?" Buck fervently hoped for a negative response.

"Foster is a fairly common name in the south, and Atlanta is – or rather was – a sizable community with a myriad of social structures. My life did not tend to lend itself to fraternization with the sort of woman Miss Foster would seem to be. As I was saying, please issue her my apologies and my heartfelt desire to make her acquaintance at a more advantageous time. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall see to Chaucer before having my own dinner and withdrawing for the night."

Standing at the same time, Buck watched Ezra leave before he headed over to join Chris and Josiah.

"Told you he couldn't take you duty tomorrow?" Chris smirked slightly. It wasn't that he begrudged his friend time with the new woman in his life, but he did resent the lack of work discipline exhibited every time Buck's more hedonistic tendencies kicked into play.

Knowing he had been pushing his luck lately, Buck bit back the smart mouthed response and tried for a different angle. This one just might work if he was figuring right.

"JD riding tomorrow morning?"

That wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. Surely the man wasn't foolish enough to think the kid would be willing to substitute for him.

"No, he's got evenings this week."

"Perfect. All I need then is for you to take the morning for me –" he held up his hand to stop the impending interruption "- and I will do your afternoon. Figured I'd see if he'd want to go fishing with me." Riding in the afternoon wasn't really much of a sacrifice, since Clarice had already let him know she had plans to become better acquainted with the townsfolk and the area in general. He hoped that was a sign she was thinking of staying. Granted, they'd have to pass on breakfast in the morning, but he was beginning to realize he was getting close to burning bridges with the rest of the team, and that just wasn't something he had been planning on.

Chris starred intently at him, trying to determine if there was something more to this than met the eye. He'd known Buck long enough to be able to read him with comparative ease, so it didn't take him long to suss things out. "OK. This once, for JD's sake. Kid is not too happy with you."

"So I hear. Guess I have been a bit preoccupied these past few days."

"_'__Lovers ever run before the clock.'_" Josiah smiled enigmatically as Buck wrinkled his brow in question. "Shakespeare. Never mind. But yes, you have focused all of your time and attention in one direction recently. I think a morning with a friend is a valid first step in returning to the fold."

"Go find out if JD is still speaking to you. He's at the jail. And while you're at it, you might want to think about making things right with the rest of the men too. They've all been more than generous in indulging you as well."

Sheepishly, Buck grinned at Josiah, who laughed heartily. "I'll be needing a strong back at the church for some heavy lifting soon. You will be at the top of my list."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Not entirely certain of the reception he'd be getting, Buck slowly opened the door of the jail house. JD sat at the desk, pouring over the wanted posters, determined as always to memorize the face of every outlaw within a thousand miles of the territory. He had convinced himself that that kind of attention to detail was going to make him the greatest lawman in the west. The others always silently added the caveat of 'if he lives that long', fearing the greenhorn's exuberance would get in the way of that. Still, in the past couple of months he had matured considerably, and his goal was seeming a little less absurd with each passing day.

The opening door had him looking up from his task and a smile flashed across his face, quickly replaced by uncharacteristic cynicism. "Can't fill in for you tomorrow Buck. Sorry." He didn't sound remotely apologetic.

"Now JD, I know for a fact you ain't working in the morning, 'cause Chris just finished telling me so."

"Still can't fill in."

"I know that. You are gonna be too busy feeding worms to the fishes while I, master that I am at the art, will be catching trout after trout." He pulled a chair up to the desk and straddled it. "Assuming of course that you are interested."

"You mean it? Just the two of us?" The last thing he wanted was to be playing third wheel if **she **was coming along.

"Just the two of us kid. And a bunch of fish of course." He hesitated, not terribly skilled at this kind of thing. "Look, JD, I know I haven't exactly been to free with my time lately. It ain't that I don't like fishing and shooting and whatnot with you – all of you. It's just…" He faded off, not really sure how to end the thought.

JD shrugged, acknowledging that just maybe he had overstepped the boundaries of their friendship. "I get it. She is mighty pretty and all." He looked up, not certain he wanted to ask the next question, and even less certain he wanted to hear the answer. "You going with her? I mean, if she leaves town, are you going too?"

He'd wondered the same thing himself, hoping it wouldn't come to that. There was really only one thing keeping him in Four Corners in the first place – friendship. He'd known Chris longer than he'd been friends with any other man alive. While the time was much shorter for the rest, the connection was quickly growing to be as strong. As for the kid – the man – who sat in front of him now. Well, if he'd ever been lucky enough to have a younger brother, this was the one he would have wanted.

But, all of that seemed to disappear when he looked into the beautiful sky blue eyes or listened to the lilting laugh of the woman who had stolen his heart. Time stood still when they were together. When he thought of all the times he had scoffed at the idea of love at first sight, and the merciless teasing he had subjected Chris to when Sarah had entered his life, he realised he'd been a fool. True love was real, and he was deeply in its grasp.

"I wish I could tell you. I don't want to leave – honest. But I'm not sure I could stay if – hell kid. I just don't know."

Not the answer he wanted, but he had to admit it was the one he expected. Keeping his concerns, and his sigh, to himself, JD decided his only option was to make the best of what he saw as a really bad situation. Offering a weak grin he spoke. "Well, I guess I'm happy for you Buck. Must be neat to feel that way about someone. Now, what time are we heading out in the morning?"

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

She stood in the window of the hotel lobby, shielded by the curtains and the knowledge that the object of her attention would see nothing but a reflection of the sunset in the glass, making it all but impossible for him to spot her there.

Damn it, he was not supposed to be here. They had gone to considerable lengths to make sure of that. Yet here he was, as welcome as a rattlesnake at a square dance. He'd been lured out of town, and with the set up they had arranged for him he should have stayed away for at least another week, maybe more. Definitely enough time to take care of business and be well on their way to somewhere no law could touch them. They had worked too long and too hard for this to fall apart now. Not when the final and most lucrative stage was in play.

The question was, what to do about this? At first glance the answer was obvious. Having Ezra Standish as part of a scheme was seldom a bad idea. In their line of work, he was truly gifted. He had a decided knack for sensing trouble, and a definite skill at getting away from it. He could sweet talk almost anyone out of almost anything; she should know. And when it came to squeezing every dime out of a mark, there were few better.

The most obvious downside to that was it would mean spreading the earnings out further, something she was loath to consider. He'd want an equal share, despite coming in at the end play. If he didn't get it there were all sorts of ways he could ruin the game.

Then there was the other, more pressing factor to consider. If the stories were right, and evidence was adding up to support that, some bizarre twist of fate had led Ezra Standish to sell his services to the other side. He was a lawman now. She had a great deal of trouble believing that was true. Selling his services – yes, absolutely. Always to the highest bidder though. Not for this paltry $1 a day arrangement, and not in a town like this. There had to be something more behind it. Try as she might, she couldn't come up with what kind of con he was running, but it had to be good to keep him here. Whether it was real or not, just the idea complicated matters. She knew he could turn her in without second thought to keep her out of the game and with the benefit of enhancing his own reputation. At best, for old times sake, he might choose to simply run her out of town. Far too much had been put into her operation to let that happen.

There were simply too many variables at play, none with so much as a decent chance at the desired outcome. And, like the man causing the trouble, she hated leaving anything to chance. One way or another, Ezra Standish needed to be removed from the equation, and she smiled as she realized she knew exactly how to do that.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The activity in town was picking up as Clarice made her way from the hotel to her destination. She had been up most of the night, preparing plans for her colleagues, working out the details in her mind, and making sure her story was believable. Once she started this, there would be no turning back.

More than anything else she wished she could be sure of how much these men and this town trusted Standish. The talk she'd heard confirmed he was still seen as the gambler with the questionable and somewhat mysterious and decidedly disreputable past. That at least would work in her favour. But he'd been with these men for a while now, in what she could only assume were some tense situations. And uncharacteristically, he had stood by them and even acted heroically. That could make her plan a bit harder to pull off, but she was no novice. And she had been trained by some of the best.

As she approached the newspaper office she set about changing her appearance. The lack of sleep worked in her favour, as did the absence of any powder or colour on her face. She had already used those dreadful drops to make her eyes sting enough to be red and slightly puffy. Now she ran her hand over her hair, loosening a few strands from the tieback and allowing them to fall over her face. She pulled the delicate and slightly worn hankie from her purse and crumpled it in her hand. It was showtime.

The knocking at the newspaper office door was almost too timid for Mary to be sure she had heard anything. Considering the amount of work she had planned for the day, she hoped she hadn't. A moment later, when the gentle tap was repeated, she sighed softly and went to answer.

"Miss Foster. How unexpected."

"Please, if you aren't terribly busy I was wondering…" she let a small sob escape her lips, stopping her request.

"Of course. Come in. My heavens, here. Take a seat. Can I get you anything?"

Clarice delicately dabbed her lace handkerchief to the corner of eye. "If it isn't too much trouble, perhaps a glass of water?"

Mary scurried into the back room and hastily poured a small amount. She couldn't begin to imagine what had the woman so upset, or why she would have come here to deal with it. They'd only spoken a few times, and that was little more than an exchange of pleasantries. Logic would have seen her taking any concerns she had to Buck rather than a relative stranger. Unless Buck was the problem.

Yes, that had to be it. She had found out about his Casanova status. Hopefully through rumors, and not by any unpleasant first-hand experience. Not that she was under the impression for a moment Buck was the sort to be unduly forceful with a woman. According to him that was not just ungentlemanly, it was unnecessary. But Clarice was from a more genteel world, and his clumsy advances could well seem terrifying to her.

This was foolish. The woman was waiting for her water and was undoubtedly planning to explain her intrusion. When she returned to the office she thought for a moment she was alone until a soft 'hello' came from the corner. She turned to see Clarice huddled into the seat there, almost as if trying to hide from the world.

"Good heavens Miss Foster. What is the matter? Should I get Chris, or maybe Buck?"

"NO! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call out like that. I just – I'd rather… oh my stars, I'm so confused. I just didn't know where to go. I don't really know any one here, certainly not any women, and this can't be discussed with a man. And if Buck were to find out? No. That simply mustn't happen."

She was all but hyperventilating by the time she finished, and Mary feared it would be Nathan she'd be needing help from at this rate. "Please, calm down. I won't leave you, but you have to get control of yourself and tell me what is wrong."

"I – I'm not sure I can."

Pulling over a stool, Mary sat next to Clarice and took her hand. The trembling was far more than she had expected. "Take your time. Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?"

Clarice shook her head slightly. "No, I am uninjured. Just… shaken. I'm sorry. This is foolishness, but I simply can't abide to talk of it. But I must or I'll just burst."

Mary knew she shouldn't be letting her curiosity win out in this. Clearly the woman was in a state of mental anguish, but if she didn't stop dithering soon it was going to be all but impossible to refrain from slapping her. While she was still trying to figure out the most efficient approach to get her to explain herself, Clarice began speaking softly.

"I left – my family left Atlanta for several reasons. Of course the war was one of them, but not the only one. Things happened there. Horrible things. And if Buck were to find out – well I fear he would no longer find me of interest to him. No man would want a woman who was... I can't. I would be far too disgraced."

It didn't require any special insight to deduce what Clarice was trying so hard not to say. Mary had heard of some of that atrocities committed, especially near the end of the war. Soldiers seeking retribution for what they felt they had lost or trying to assert the power of their victories. Both sides had much to be ashamed of.

"It is why – one of the reasons why I could never allow myself to be with him. He would know. Know that I had been – sullied." She broke down sobbing and Mary quickly moved from her seat to engulf her in a comforting embrace.

"Stop that crying. You mustn't speak that way. What happened, what I assume happened to you, is not your fault. Good Lord Miss Foster, you were attacked. Assaulted. You are a victim and have no reason to feel shame or guilt. And I feel quite certain that, should you decide to share this with Mr. Wilmington, he will express that same opinion."

Clarice took in several gulps of air in an effort to stop the tears. She looked up and saw the compassion and concern on Mary's face. This was working perfectly. "I believe, all things considered, that it would be quite proper for you to call me Clarice. Formalities seem rather foolish under the circumstances."

Smiling, Mary returned to her seat. "Yes, I would have to agree with that. Now, if I may be so bold as to ask, what has inspired you to come to me with this tale? Has Mr. Wilmington suggested anything that has made you feel uncomfortable?" She would be sure to direct Chris to have a long talk with his friend if that was the case.

"Oh, heavens no. Buck – Mr. Wilmington would never be so forward. He is such a gentleman. He has not even broached such a delicate subject as intimacy with me."

That was a bit of a surprise. This was a small town, and gossip was a mainstay. Buck and his reputation with the ladies was a favorite topic of conversation, and the image of him as proper and subdued was hard to accept.

"No, of course he didn't. Forgive me for suggesting such a thought. But clearly something has triggered this trauma for you. Perhaps someone else said or acted in a manner that has upset you this deeply?"

She almost instantly regretted asking the question. Watching the young woman, Mary was certain she was going to succumb to the panic that was evident in her eyes. "Shall I get Nathan? He can give you something to help calm you – he has teas that would help."

"Please. Just give me a moment and I shall be alright." She took some calming breaths and appeared to regain some of her composure. "I thought the incident was behind me. Moving on from such an experience was not easy, but with the help of my family I actually dared to believe that I could leave all of that back in Georgia and start over. How could I have known – why would I have ever imagined I would see that lowlife varmint again?"

Mary gasped. "Here? You saw him here? Are you certain?"

"It is a face that has haunted me in nightmares, and one I shall never forget."

The notion that someone who would do that – attack a defenseless young woman – was here in her town chilled her to her core. No one was safe. "Clarice, we must tell -"

"No, you can't. I could never hold my head up again if it were to become known."

"If there is any chance that he might strike again you must speak up. The women of this town deserve to be safe. You deserve to be safe. Once Mr. Larabee and the others are made aware of what has happened this man will not be able to harm anyone again. You must tell me who it is."

Clarice hesitated before speaking in a shaking voice. "I don't know. I can't be sure of his name. When my father tried to track him down after – after he – after it happened, he could find no trace. We knew him as Edward Segal, but no such man existed."

"But you saw him. Describe him to me."

It was a bit of a challenge to keep the glee out of her voice. This was playing out exactly as she had envisioned.

"He is deceptively charming. I would guess him to be in his late 20's, but it is difficult to be certain. He dresses as a gentleman, and to the world he appears to be one. Oh, but he is not."

Mary felt an uncomfortable churning start in her stomach. The description was bringing one person to mind, but that simply could not be the case.

"Auburn hair, green eyes. I will never forget the way those eyes stared at me when…" She shuddered dramatically. "And that smile. That charming, terrifying smile that widens to show off a gold tooth." She broke down and started crying again.

"No. You must be mistaken."

Between sobs she choked out the question. "You – you know this fiend?"

"I know the man you have described, which is why I can't believe it to be true. Mr. Standish wouldn't – I mean, I can't imagine that he could be so vile."

Clarice debated quickly how far over the top she could go before it became absurd. Luckily for her, Mary misinterpreted the delayed response. "Please understand I don't doubt your word. I know you must believe him to be your attacker, or you would never have come to me, or anyone, to discuss it. It is just that it seems so shocking."

"Yes, my own family doubted it at first as well. Segal – Standish you say? – had a solid reputation within the community. But within days of my assault he vanished, as did a great deal of money raised for the children of those who died for the South."

It all made a horrible kind of sense. From what she knew of his past, stealing from orphans and skipping town would not have been beyond what he was capable of doing. But to attack a young woman? That did seem like too much, even for him. Still, war did strange and terrible things to people. It was entirely withing the realm of possibility that Ezra Standish was a different man then. One with even fewer scruples than he now possessed, or at least was trying to establish. She could fathom no reason Clarice would lie about something like that.

"I know you don't want to share this, but Clarice, we must tell Chris – Mr. Larabee. I promise you he will be discreet."

"No. He will tell Buck."

"Not if he doesn't have to." She wasn't sure she should make that statement, but hoped it was accurate. If Buck found out about this, Ezra would be a dead man, and there would be no trial to formalize the process. Not that she could see any solution that didn't involve full disclosure, but she had to tell herself that wasn't her problem. "Please understand, now that I know this I have an obligation to make sure nothing like what happened to you ever happens again. These men, they will make sure of that."

Dabbing at her eyes once again, Clarice nodded. She kept the hankie close to her face, afraid for a moment she would be unable to keep a grin from appearing. As she had expected, Mary's streak of righteous morality was exactly what had been needed. She was sure Chris wouldn't question her judgement on an issue like this. The least she could hope for was that Ezra was driven out of town, if he lived long enough. And even if he did leave, she had plans in place to ensure he did not survive the day.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

Chris stared at Mary, dumbfounded. The jail house was empty so had been the perfect place to ensure privacy. He sat quietly behind the desk as Mary paced the room while repeating the story she'd been told, her anger mounting with each step.

"How could you bring someone like that into our town?" She demanded again.

"In the first place, we don't know he's 'someone like that'. All you've got is her word. Don't you think maybe he deserves to be heard on this? Maybe she's mistaken." He wished he could believe what he was saying. In truth, it was all he could do to contain his temper.

"Yes, there are hundreds of men that fit that description – fancy dressed, auburn hair, green eyes, gold tooth. The town is overrun by them."

"Still deserves to be heard."

Mary just glared at him for several seconds before letting go of some of her anger. "You didn't see her Chris. She was terrified. Seeing him brought back so much fear and shame, and that isn't right."

He stood and circled the desk, leaning back against it to be closer to her without intruding. "No, it isn't. But neither is accusing him without giving him a say. Yeah, the description matches, but seeing him at a distance? Maybe he just looks like the guy, and that was enough to make her confused."

"So you don't think he could have done this?"

That was the real question, wasn't it? If he was being honest with himself, Chris had to admit he wasn't sure what he believed Ezra was capable of. He knew he didn't trust the man when it came to money, cards or commitments. Only a fool would. But he had seen the look on Ezra's face back at the village. He had come back to face not only a band of lunatics, but also the men he had abandoned. That took character that he never guessed the man had. In that moment he had seen the potential, and now he was hoping he hadn't misread the situation.

"I like to think I'm a better judge of people than that. But people do things in wartimes that they'd never even think of otherwise. All I know for sure is we have to talk to him before this gets around town. He's due back from patrol around noon."

Mary finally stopped pacing. "What are you going to tell the others?"

"Nothing. Yet. Need to talk to him first and get a grip on what is going on."

"And then?"

Running his hand over his face, Chris exhaled slowly. "I don't know. If he admits to this then the matter is pretty much done, but I don't see that happening. From what you said, Miss Foster isn't going to want this to end up in court."

"What woman would?"

"If she won't, I don't rightly know what we can do."

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Clarice watched through the window of the newspaper office, waiting for events to unfold. Mary was still at the jailhouse. The determination in her stride as she marched there had been heartening, but the amount of time this was taking was less so. She had expected to see Larabee charge out, screaming for Ezra's head on a platter. Time was running short if this was going to happen the way she had laid out. Buck and JD were to be back from their fishing trip – such foolishness – soon and the stage needed to be set.

She wondered how the rest of her gang would react when they found what she had done. Not that there had been any choice, or any opportunity to warn them. In order for their operation to work she had to appear to be alone, and with the others waiting out of town, she couldn't have consulted them in time. Harlan would be coming it today to get a progress report. Nothing more than a rider passing through town but staying long enough to recover any note from the prearranged pick up point and drop off any news she needed to hear.

She'd already left the message, with assorted instructions depending on how things played out. In what she hoped was the last case scenario, Standish being allowed to leave town, they were to make sure he wasn't coming back. She had considered merely having them detain him until for the duration of their stay. They could release him or send word of his location after. By that time it was likely the others might be more willing to believe his tale, not that it would matter at that point. The mark would be broke. Dead broke. She laughed lightly at her own little joke. Yes, the bonus they would get for killing him would certainly augment their retirement fund.

That was the tipping point for her. What was one more body in the scheme of things? When the job was done the lawmen would know they'd been had – been played. And understanding them as she did, she had little doubt that they would seek out Standish to try to set things right. The distraction would allow more time for escape. She and the others would be long out of the country by the time they found whatever was left of him, all of the puzzles pieces fell into place.

Sounds from outside drew her attention back to the street. Damn it. Buck was back early. She had hoped Ezra would return first. It was a tidier plan, but clearly not one that could come to pass. Oh well, time for act 2 of her little drama. After pinching her cheeks to redden them and rubbing her eyes she gathered herself together and opened the door of the office, hurrying out to the street. Careful to appear that she wasn't watching where she was going, she stumbled toward her target.

"Well now darling, I can understand why you'd be so anxious –" He stopped when he took a proper look at her. "Clarice, what is it? What's wrong?"

"No, please. Just let me go. I can't talk – I can't talk to you right now."

"Sorry darlin' but you aren't goin' anywhere 'til I know what put you in such a state."

She pulled away, hiding her face. "I can't. Not here, not now. Please Buck, I just need to go. I need to make arrangements to leave."

Putting an arm tightly around her shoulder he steered her toward the hotel. He chose to pretend to not understand the weak effort she made to pull away, snugging her in closer instead.

"JD, go let Chris know I'll be by to see him when I can."

Without a word the young man nodded and ran off to the jail. He wasn't overly fond of Clarice, but he hated seeing anyone that upset.

"I really would prefer to be alone."

"Maybe so, but until I'm sure you're alright, that isn't going to happen. Now, are you going to tell me what has got you so upset?"

She looked up at him, eyes glistening. Blinking, she allowed a few teardrops to fall before nodding ever so slightly. "Yes, I suppose I have to. It's only fair that you know why I have to leave."

"I thought you were reconsidering all of that?"

"Buck, please. Can we talk about this somewhere other than out here?"

He stopped their progress at the hotel door, looking at her with concern and affection. "We can do whatever it is you need. Come on, we'll find a quiet place in here."

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Ezra rode into town, hoping against all hope he wouldn't run into any of the others – particularly Chris. It had been a quiet ride, which suited him just fine. He was tired, mentally and physically. Clearly his body did not take to the idea of early to bed – early to rise. Despite his fatigue from his long voyage home he'd been able to get very little sleep. He tossed and turned, restless for reasons he couldn't define, and that became worrisome in and of itself. His subconscious was trying to tell him something. Warn him. That he couldn't deduce what that message was could be, at best, problematic. What he needed now was some time to himself to work on that problem. A nap might just do the trick for releasing his thoughts, if he could avoid anyone who would most certainly have other plans for him.

He rode behind the main street buildings to get to the stables, circling around past the Church. With Josiah on patrol it was deserted, which suited him quite nicely. As quickly as possible he got Chaucer brushed down and fed, offering up a couple of peppermint treats before patting him on the nose and heading out. He figured to retrace his entrance path and make his way as unobtrusively as possible back to his room. Heading toward a back alleyway he glanced up the street, checking to make sure Chris hadn't spotted him.

He froze, certain he was hallucinating due to fatigue. That was the only possible explanation. It couldn't be her. Not here. Not now when things were looking so promising. He flattened himself against the wall of the undertakers shop, hoping it wasn't an ironically prophetic location. Poking his head cautiously out, he looked down the street again, hoping to see something other than what he knew was there.

Annabelle Morrison. He had dreaded the possibility she would someday cross his path again. There couldn't have been a good time for that to happen, but now was about the worst he could envision. He knew any slim hope he had of making a new life in Four Corners had quite probably just evaporated.

The pit in his stomach grew bigger when he saw where she was headed. It took only an instant for him to put the facts together. This was the woman of Buck's dreams, his Clarice. If he only knew what kind of a nightmare that could – would – become.

He leaned back against the wall again. That made no sense. Why on earth would she be here, and why go after Buck? Undoubtedly the man had an inexplicable charm that drew most women to him, but Annabella wasn't like most women. She wasn't the swooning type. No, she was the lure, the bait, the temptress. She had been the spider inviting the fly into her web, but why pick on this fly? Buck had no money, power or prestige that would be worth the effort. And the town had nothing special to offer up either.

He dared risk another glance and saw Buck gripping her tightly, obviously trying to offer some kind of comfort. Whatever she was up to, it was in play. It was too late to try to warn him. There wasn't a chance in hell his word would be taken when the man was so completely smitten. If he could somehow get past his own reputation and manage to get through to Chris, convince him of the danger, maybe they could do something about it in time.

When the street was clear, or at least safe, he made a beeline for the jail. Opening the door he darted in, closing it quickly behind him. He turned, surprised to see Mary there, but ignoring her presence for the moment.

"Mr. Larabee, it is imperative that you do something about that woman calling herself Clarice Foster."

Damn it. Ezra was already coming up with his defense. That wasn't a good sign. "Calling herself?"

"Yes. While I would prefer to avoid having to provide all of the less than noble reasons why I know that to be the case, I can assure you she is not who she claims to be."

Mary's anger rose. "Isn't that somewhat a case of the pot calling the kettle black?"

He hadn't realized the two women had formed a friendship, but that made sense. Annabella would cultivate any relationship that might be of benefit to her. Mary, with her status in the town and burgeoning relationship with Chris definitely would fall into that category.

"Madam, it is the fact that my past is riddled with episodes of questionable thought and act that enables me to assure you that Miss Annabella Morrison is as untrustworthy and as dangerous a woman as you might ever dare encounter."

"She has some interesting things to say about you too Standish."

He turned back to look at Chris. "Then she is aware of my presence?" Hellfire! He had hoped he was beating her to the punch, but clearly she had already started her counteroffensive.

"Just seeing you this morning was enough to send the poor woman into a fit of near hysteria." Mary snapped at him. "And now you come in here trying to tarnish her reputation without a single fact to back you up."

"Oh, I see. And she no doubt provided volumes of evidence in support of her assault on my character. Why is it, madam, you default to accepting her tales while emphatically and without hesitation deny any comments I might make?"

"Because no woman would lie about what she said. What you did. It is simply to demeaning and shameful."

Ezra stared, so stunned by the accusation that he failed to even try to put on a façade. "She said I – she has accused me of violating her in such a manner?" Why it hadn't occurred to him just how low she could go was beyond him. Given the history of accusations they had made against others in the course of past scams and cons, this shouldn't have surprised him in the least.

"Surely you cannot believe –" he paused, looking at the hard stares he was getting. "But of course you do. You have mistrusted me from the beginning, no doubt regretting on countless occasions in the past three months that you ever made the initial offer to be a party to your escapade, let alone any subsequent. So, Mr. Larabee, do I assume I am in custody now? Will I at least be given the opportunity of a trial, inevitable as its outcome may be?"

The clench of Chris's jaw sent all the message that was needed. It took him a moment to be able to speak. "Can't arrest you. She doesn't want this made public, no surprise. And since you weren't caught in the act –"

"Due to the fact the act never occurred."

The interruption served only to strengthen Chris's resolve. "Since you weren't caught in the act there aren't witnesses."

"To something that didn't happen? Of course not. My apologies, I have once again interrupted your unjustified character assassination. Please, continue."

"My advice would be for you to get your ass out of town, sooner rather than later."

He had known it was coming. Known from the very start this day would arrive, though in his wildest imaginings, this impetus would never have occurred to him. That his past would inescapably catch up to him was expected. That it would so soon, or due to hideous and false accusations from this woman was completely unanticipated.

He opened his mouth to speak before realizing that it would be a wasted effort. Shaking his head in disbelief at this latest twist in his fortunes, he turned to leave.

"Standish, that advice is in part for your own good. Buck finds out about this, I can't promise that we could stop whatever he might try to do."

"Or that you would even try?"

Chris bristled. "Not about to watch a man get shot down in cold blood in my town."

"No, of course not. You would hate to see Mr. Wilmington hang for merely carrying out a sentence in advance of the trial." With his hand on the doorknob, Ezra hesitated. He wanted to say more, to plead his case, but what was the point. "I shall have my belongings packed and be gone within the hour." He didn't look back as the door closed behind him.

For the first time since he'd arrived just ahead of Ezra's entrance, JD moved from his spot in the corner and spoke.

"One of us should go with him. Clarice was talking to Buck, and she was mighty upset Chris."

"Damn it JD, why didn't you say something?" Chris grabbed his hat and charged out to the street. Ezra was crossing, headed straight to his room above the saloon. He was sufficiently distracted that he didn't see the charging approach coming from the hotel.

"Standish - you sorry son of a bitch!"

Ezra stopped, but didn't turn. To do so would have been to acknowledge the implied challenge. He didn't want to get into a showdown with Buck. It wasn't a matter of who would win, only of who would lose the most.

"Turn and face me you yellow-belly lowlife."

"While I know my word has no value to you, it is all I can offer at this point. I have not done anything of which I am accused, and what you are considering at this moment is decidedly ill-advised."

"Shove your fancy talk Standish. Face me."

Closing his eyes to centre himself, Ezra took a deep breath. He held his arms out from his side to make it clear he had no intention of going for his gun and slowly made the quarter turn necessary to be facing his newfound enemy.

"I will not draw on you Mr. Wilmington, and I am betting my life on the fact you will not shoot a man who is not defending himself. That same code of honour which has raised your ire on behalf of the woman you erroneously believe I harmed will prevent you from such an act."

"You're gonna lose that bet." Buck drew his gun and aimed.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

He hesitated only when he saw Ezra was not making any move to reach for his gun or to release the derringer in his sleeve. "Draw on me you coward."

"No."

"Don't Buck."

Chris's call came from up the street, and JD was only a second behind.

"Come on Buck. You can't shoot Ezra down like that."

"Watch me. He deserves it."

"Not without a trial he doesn't."

Buck was not shifting his attention. Standish was fast when he needed to be, and all he would need was the slightest distraction to have his own weapon at the ready.

All movement in the street had stopped. Shootouts and drawdowns were all to common an occurrence but seeing one between these two men was a different story. Especially when one of them wasn't living up to his part. No one understood what was going on, but the murmur of discussion told any observer which side was being taken by the town. While they were both relative newcomers, Buck was the town favorite. His easygoing manner and friendly smile won people over quickly. Standish, on the other hand, was always looking for an angle. A bet he could place, a scheme he could enact that would ensure money in his pocket. The foolhardy decision of Judge Travis had brought the reprobate to their town, but they didn't have to like it.

Watching from the doorway, the cause of the trouble stepped forward. Planting a seed of descension fit into the plan, but this wasn't exactly what she had in mind. Having Buck behind bars wasn't going to help matters and if he shot under these circumstances, that was where he'd end up.

"Please don't Buck. He's not worth what will happen to you. Please."

"Listen to her Buck." JD's plaintiff voice was closer now. "You don't want to do this."

The kid was wrong – about as wrong as it was possible to be. He wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger and put an end to someone who'd hurt a lady that way. He'd seen it all of his life. Even as a child, men would assume that they had the right to hurt his mother, degrade her, because of who she was and what she did. It was wrong then and it sure as hell was wrong now to hurt Clarice that way. How many other women had he raped over the years? Didn't they deserve to have justice?

"Why isn't he behind bars Chris? Why ain't he locked up?"

"That was my call. Mary says Miss Foster doesn't want to press charges, just wants this done. We got no cause to arrest him Buck, but he's leaving town."

"So he can go somewhere else? Hurt, attack, maybe even kill some other woman? I don't think so."

Small steps had brought Chris close to his old friend. "We got no choice Buck. This is over, so put down the gun and go take care of your lady. She needs you."

Slowly the weapon was lowered, but as he did so Buck moved closer to Ezra, who had remained motionless. Waiting until he was just inches away, Buck spoke in a low tone that resonated with hatred. "If I ever see your face again, you best be saying your prayers." With no warning he landed a solid punch to Ezra's stomach causing him to double over. Another fist to the jaw sent him to the ground. The temptation to level a kick was almost too much to resist, but somehow he managed, turning away and walking back to Clarice's side, taking her away from the prying eyes and questions that were bound to follow.

Ezra lay unmoving, trying to catch his breath and clear his head. No one came to his aid. The street around him cleared, with the townsfolk deliberating taking a wide circle to stay away. Enough had been said for them all to form an opinion. Chris watched from where he stood, waiting for Ezra to be able to stand. When that finally happened he spoke only three words. "One hour Standish."

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He stood in the window of his room, looking down at the street for one last time. Three months. Not even that, when you factored the time he was out of town on his fool's errand. An errand he was now sure Annabella was behind, somehow. He hoped his mother hadn't been involved as well, although it he certainly wouldn't put it past her. After all, much of what Annabella knew, she had learned at the feet of the master.

She had come into their lives a decade or so ago, when she was in her mid-teens. Orphaned, she had learned to fend for herself but had a knack for finding trouble too often. Her efforts to pick the pocket of a man Maude Standish was setting up backfired. Maude had acted, as always, for her own benefit, seeing to it that the young woman was arrested. She also saw to it that Ezra bailed her out and whisked her out of town. Mother always had an eye for talent, and this youngster had the look of an innocent and the guile of a professional. It took only a modicum of fine tuning and very little time for her to become part of the act, joining them on multiple occasions until Maude stumbled into a solo opportunity and to no one's surprise, abandoned her son and her protégé. The duo set out on their own with a somewhat more marginal success rate but faring well enough to more than survive.

The relationship changed in the short time they were together from acquaintances to friends to lovers, then back to friends again when the closeness was getting in the way of profit. The partnership was coming into its own when the war interfered. Annabella took the first opportunity that presented itself to go north with a businessman who was looking to secure his own safety, leaving Ezra to fend for himself. He heard little of what happened to her after that. Word did get to him through mutual acquaintances that she had continued to develop her natural skills. She had married and been widowed soon thereafter. He was given to understand it was a happenstance that repeated at least once. And, if the stories were true, she had associated herself with partners again. One was a slightly older gentleman who no doubt served as a scout and occasional shill for her – a favorite ploy of Maude's. He assumed they had met up north. The other was a brute of a man who went by the name of Cyrus. Ezra had had the misfortune of meeting a few times in his formative years; they had not parted on the best of terms.

He wondered now, as he stared toward the hotel, if the men were in the area, or if they had long since taken separate paths. She wasn't alone. He was almost sure of that, although he couldn't say why. Shoving his valise to the end of the bed, he sat down heavily, trying to sort through what was happening.

There was nothing of any real value in town. Certainly nothing that would be worth this kind of trouble. Having been away for a couple of weeks, he couldn't say for certain that wasn't about to change, but Chris had given no indications yesterday of any impending arrivals of people or property.

Damn! He should be able to figure this out. This was his area – his expertise. The thought that she was getting the better of him in so many ways was beyond frustrating. It was humiliating.

Pulling out his pocket watch he was surprised to see he still have 30 minutes before the deadline was up. He didn't have that much to pack up, and most of it was kept at the ready in the event of the need for a hasty departure. He looked around the room one more time. A few things were being left behind for the sake of travelling light. No need to burden Chaucer down with anything that could be easily replace. In addition to his ring and watch, assets he would never leave behind, he had his cash, his cards and his wardrobe essentials. A small amount of dried foods would see him through to wherever his next destination might be. He'd make a final decision on that later. Back to Georgia, or anywhere in the region, was tempting, but not a safe choice. He'd burned too many bridges there to want to take that risk. West was a possibility. The gold rush in California was petering out, but there remained endless opportunities for a man with some imagination. His dexterity with the cards would help as well. The north-east was largely unexplored territory for him. If he could learn to abide the climate, he might do nicely there.

He stood, picking up the bag and his bedroll. He scanned the room again, unable to get past the feeling he was forgetting something. Missing something. Unfinished business. He knew what that was.

"Well to hell with all of them." His voice sounded hollow, lacking the commitment that should be there. "You tried to warn them about her and look where it got you. Run out of town again with nothing to show for it but a sore gut and aching jaw." He stared at his reflection, trying to convince himself that he meant the words he was speaking. "Don't be a fool."

Striding quickly to the door he rested his hand on the knob for a moment before sighing quietly. Dropping his load, he returned to the dresser, picking up the battered pencil and began writing a letter for Chris.

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"If you are here to deliver a message, or more, on behalf of Mr. Wilmington you may assure him I fully understand and appreciate his anger. It is unwarranted, but I doubt he would accept that fact."

Ezra continued preparing Chaucer for the ride ahead as he spoke to JD. The young man's arrival had been unexpected, but he wasn't surprised someone had been sent to make sure he was doing as ordered. He presumed JD was chosen as the one least likely to lash out, at least physically. With Josiah and Vin still out of town, and Nathan never being particularly fond of him, the choices were limited.

"Not here for anyone else Ezra. Just wanted to say goodbye is all."

The gambler paused his actions, turning to look at JD. The sincerity was shocking to him. "Goodbye and good riddance?" He went back to snugging Chaucer's saddle.

"No Ezra. Truth is I don't want to you to go. I'm gonna miss having you around. Gonna miss the poker lessons you were sooner or later going to give me." He added with a grin.

"Lessons always come at a cost Mr. Dunne. You would be wise to remember that."

"Ezra?" The tone was tentative. "You're telling the truth, aren't you? She's bad news."

He stopped work altogether at the comment. Was it possible someone actually believed him? That was a novelty.

"Yes Mr. Dunne. She is the worst news imaginable but spare yourself the heartache of trying to convince Mr. Wilmington, or the others, of that fact. She was fortunate enough to launch the initial accusation, and after that anything I say was seen merely as a weak and desperate defence."

"You think she's going to hurt him."

There was no question that would be the outcome. The only question was how. Physical harm was unlikely. As a rule, it historically had not been her first choice, and she had to have become aware of how Buck was seen in this town, and by the men who guarded it. An assault on him would mean retribution, swift and sure. Emotional harm was an entirely different matter, and she was going to deliver that in ample supply. If he ended up with no more that a broken heart, he will have gotten off lightly.

"Presuming he has not named her as beneficiary of a significant insurance policy, I do not believe he is in danger. That does not mean she does not present a risk. Someone will be affected by her presence here beyond question. I simply have been unable to ascertain who, or how."

"Well, you were affected."

"Yes, but one might say it was due to me." He saw the shock instantly. "Not because I am culpable of any of the accusations she has leveled. Suffice to say I have led a life that leads inevitably to unpleasant consequences and swift departures." He was astounded to feel relief when JD accepted his explanation with no challenge. Why on earth should he care what the young man thought?

"Tell me Mr. Dunne, are you aware of any events that have happened recently, or may be forthcoming, that would garner the attention of unscrupulous individuals?"

JD leaned against the stable wall, searching for an answer. "Nothing that I can think of, but – and don't take this wrong – I might not be the one in this conversation to know just what those things might be."

"Fair point. Has there been any sudden influx of money to the area?"

"Couple more homesteaders is all. And talk of someone maybe buying up a few properties to do some ranching. No gold talk or anything like that. And nothing that we've been told about coming in on any stages or the like."

Ezra shook his head. "Nothing apparently worthy, at least on the surface." Checking one last time to see that everything was secure, Ezra mounted. "I leave you to ponder the dilemma for yourself. If you feel something is amiss, then I would advice discussing matters with Mr. Sanchez first. He is a reasonably rational man who seems to be open to honest discussion. Whatever you do, avoid reviewing your concerns with Mr. Wilmington."

"No, Buck doesn't seem to be available these days anyway."

"Take care of yourself Mr. Dunne."

"Ez – if I need to ask you more, where kind I find you?"

"That, good sir, is a query to which I have no answer. If I find one, I shall let you know."

He rode out, choosing to leave by the closest way out of town to avoid the stares and comments he would have faced in town. It also spared him the last look at what he had hoped was home.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

Vin was shaking the dust off as much as possible before heading into the saloon. It was a dry day and he was parched, but still had enough presence of mind to know walking in looking like a dry gulch wouldn't be right. Satisfied he would pass inspection, except of course from Ezra, he made his way into the dimly lit room. He was familiar enough by now with the layout that he didn't need to wait for his vision to adjust to be able to head straight to the bar.

"Beer." He dared to hope it would be a keg fresh from the cellar, and therefore might at least be cool, but he was, as usual, disappointed. Smiling at Woody the bartender he raised his glass in a semblance of a toast and turned toward the tables. Mid-afternoon was quiet, as he expected. What he hadn't expected was to see Chris sitting in the corner, his face even more impassive than usual. Nathan was getting up from the table as Vin approached.

"It was the right call Chris. Knew the man was trouble from the day we laid eyes on him. So did you."

Getting no response Nathan turned, nodding a greeting to Vin. "See if you can talk some sense into him."

"Haven't been able to yet, but I am a sucker for lost causes."

He settled in at the table and the two men sat in silence for several minutes. Anyone who had known Chris Larabee for even a short time knew that prodding at him was like poking a grizzly – not something you wanted to try. It was a mistake no sane man made twice.

Finishing the beer, he was about to signal for a second when Chris spoke.

"I may have screwed up. I don't think I did, but I might have."

Waving at Woody to bring two beers, Vin turned. "Well, that clarifies everything."

"Standish has left town."

"Again? He just got back. More news from his ma?" He hadn't had a chance to speak to Ezra after his return from St. Louis. The fact that the trip had been shorter than anticipated was a cause for speculation amongst the men, but Ezra apparently hadn't let on to anyone that there had been a problem. Still, with Ezra one could never really be sure.

"No. Left for good."

Vin stared, thinking now on what Chris had said. "Shit. What did you say to him?"

"Not a damned thing. Damn it Vin, why do you think it was my fault?"

He waited until the beers were placed and Woody had left. "Well, let's start with 'I may have screwed up'. How did even Ezra manage to get in so much trouble so fast?"

"It's what he does best." Chris offered a wry grin at Josiah's comment as the older man joined them at the table. "How has our wayward son caused difficulties this time around?"

"By leaving. And before you ask, Chris hasn't told me why – yet."

Chris looked around the bar. It didn't feel right discussing the matter in public. On the other hand, there was little point in shying away from it. The earlier scene in the street had generated more than enough gossip to ensure everyone in town was, or soon would be, aware of the story.

"Miss Foster seems to know Standish from back in Georgia – during the war. Their encounter was – unpleasant."

"Let me guess. He scammed her – or more likely her kin out of the family fortunes?"

"Little more to it than that Vin. She says he got physical." He lowered his voice. "Intimately physical."

"You can't be serious?" "Not a chance."

Josiah and Vin spoke simultaneously, each with the same strident tone of disbelief in his voice. The anger and displeasure from both men was immediately apparent.

Chris tried to stare them down, but neither man was about to back off. "You two didn't see her. Mary said the woman was practically hysterical after seeing him."

"I'm not denying that Ezra has his weaknesses and faults, but I don't for a moment accept that would be one of them. You can't believe he'd assault a woman like that." Josiah was trying to keep his voice low and calm. He was only marginally successful with the effort.

"Forcing himself on a woman just ain't his way Chris."

Shifting in his chair, Chris turned toward the door for a moment before looking back at them. "As far as the incident itself, I don't know much. Miss Foster talked to Mary, and she seemed pretty convinced that something had happened. His reaction to it all didn't help matters."

"You trying to tell us he admitted it?"

"No Vin, he doesn't even admit to things when you catch him red-handed. He's not about to do that when it's just her word against his, even though he knows what we think of his."

"So he was condemned before he stood a chance of saying anything." This was all sounding disturbingly familiar to Vin.

"What did he say that made things worse?"

"He tried to sell me on the idea that she was a con woman. Someone he worked with in the past, and who was going to be nothing but trouble."

Josiah frowned deeply. "I can imagine how Buck took to hearing that."

"He didn't hear it. He was listening to Miss Foster telling him what happened. Was all I could do to stop him from shooting Standish down in the street after."

"And that is why he left town? To keep Buck from doing something stupid?"

"No. He left 'cause I ordered him out. We may not be able to prove anything, but that doesn't mean we want him staying around town. Too much of a risk."

Vin unfolded himself slowly from his seat, setting his barely touched beer back on the table. "I'll be packing up as well then. Be gone by first light."

It was Chris's turn to gape in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You said it. Too much of a risk to have someone accused of a crime wandering free in town. Hell, I'm more dangerous than Ezra might be. Wanted man, bounty on my head. Why haven't you locked me up Chris?" He didn't give him a chance to reply. "Do you know what it feels like to be condemned without a chance to defend yourself? To not be able to turn to anyone for support, because no one trusts you anymore?"

This was insane. "Knock it off Vin. I trust you."

"Why? Got more reason to mistrust me than him."

"Well, we can start with the fact I know you're innocent. Not to mention that you didn't run out on us."

"He came back. For God's sake Chris, you're the one who gave him the second chance, and he fought along side of us then, and since."

"You're also not a self confessed cheater, liar and – what the hell else did he call himself – "

Josiah wasn't going to let that by. "No, he never called himself those things. We did. Yeah, he plays the angles and manipulates the circumstances to his benefit. You knew that when you brought him into our group. I've yet to meet a man who didn't have his share of misdeeds in his past. Let he who is without sin…"

"Standish has more than his share."

"And this one is unforgivable. You can't be defending the man?" Too focused on their own discussion, none of the men had seen Buck arrive, with JD a few steps behind.

"All I'm saying," Josiah tried to settle things down before things were said that couldn't be taken back, "is that he deserved to be heard."

"He had his chance. He didn't deny anything."

Softly clearing his throat, JD spoke. "Well, actually he did." He flinched slightly when Buck turned on him, but he didn't back down. "Denied it when Chris accused him, and then again when you did, but you guys didn't want to hear it. He said the same to me before he left."

"So you – all of you – are taking the word of a man we know to be as crooked and underhanded as they come."

"Steady Buck. Nobody is taking anybody's side here. We are just trying to make sure we have all the facts is all. **If,** and I say if, Miss Foster is wrong, that means there is still somebody out there who hurt her. Don't you want to be certain the right man is punished for what happened?"

"Right man was just rode out of town Josiah, which is too good for him. Got half a mind to go after him and finish what I started."

This was getting out of hand. Chris stood. "Not your best idea old friend. Look, everybody needs to just calm down. Forget about your patrol for the afternoon. Spend some time with her. Go have dinner with your lady and make sure she's alright. We can all talk about this tomorrow when everyone has settled some."

"You really think anything is going to change Chris?" Buck looked at them with a blend of anger and disgust before turning from the table and storming out.

The tableau remained in place for almost a minute. Even the rest of the bar seemed to go quiet, waiting for the anticipated explosion. Instead, Chris slowly pulled his chair back to the table and sat. Gradually the rest of the room followed suit and the soft buzz of activity resumed.

None of this felt right. Not the fighting, not the anger and certainly not the way things were shaping up. They could all feel it, but not one could figure how things could go so bad so quickly.

"Let's start this again Chris. Why do you think you screwed up?" Chris just looked at Vin. "When we got here that was the first thing you said. So, why?"

He didn't have an answer, just a gut feeling. Normally, that was enough for him.

"Guys," JD wasn't sure this was the time, but if not now, when? "Ezra seemed pretty sure of himself. I mean, I know that he always does. It's why he's so good at what he does. But this felt different."

They all looked at him, hoping he'd get to the point, which only served to make him more unsure of what he was trying to say. "I was talking to him at the stables, before he rode out."

"And he told you he was innocent, and it was all her fault?" Chris's tone of dismal wasn't as confident as it had been just a short time ago.

"No. Well, yes, but not like that. He wasn't trying to convince me or anything. He just seemed kinda worried is all. Tryin' to figure what she was doing here."

Elbows resting on the table, Chris rested his head in his hands and rubbed deeply at his temples. It was all giving him a headache. Come to think of it, most dealings with or about Ezra had a tendency to do that.

"What did he say JD?" Josiah prodded the young man, hoping that given a clear question, he'd be able to figure out what he was trying to say.

JD sat back, trying to remember some of the words Ezra had used. "Well, he said she was unscrupulous, and made it sound like he might have been a part of that before. And he asked if there was anything in town, or coming, that someone like that might be coming after."

A recent telegram leapt to Chris's mind, causing him to raise his head, eyes going cold. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing. Ain't nothing like that happening that I know of."

"You know differently Chris?" Josiah has spotted the reaction and was able to make a decent assumption on what triggered it.

"Not sure." The telegram had come a few days ago, addressed to 'the law in Four Corners'. _Coming to town to buy land. Need to protect assets. Wilbur McHenry._ He'd taken the message to the bank, where the manager professed to know nothing about any funds being transferred but did seem rather excited about the prospect. Chris knew at least two settler families had moved on quickly from Four Corners on learning the terrain was better suited for grazing than growing. And the territory was selling off other parcels of land as well in an effort to populate and 'civilize' the west. He was beginning to think he needed to know more about this McHenry person. A telegram to Judge Travis might be the best place to start.

"Not sure." He repeated after processing what he did know. He stood up. "But I think we need to find out."

Vin wasn't satisfied with the response. "What do we do about Ezra?"

He wished he had an answer for that. Clearly bringing him back to town wasn't an option. Setting aside the very real probability the gambler would have no desire to return, there was the concern about reactions if he did. By this point, most everyone knew about what he had done, and the possibility of a lynching was very real.

Chris corrected himself – what he had been accused of. Vin was right on that point. There hadn't been a shred of proof. Just one person's word. Granted, she seemed to be of a more exemplary character that Standish, but for all they knew, that could have been an act as well.

"If you had to guess, where would you say he went?"

"He won't ride at night if he can avoid it and isn't too fond of sleepin' under the stars any more than necessary. My guess would be somewhere close."

"Vin's right." JD spoke up. "He said he might head for Eagle Bend. Or go south."

Nodding, Chris came to his decision. "I've got telegrams to send. Vin, come morning, you and Josiah are gonna head out and see if you can find Standish. Figure out for yourselves who goes where."

Both men smiled. "We bringing him home?"

"Not yet, but I don't want him out of reach either. We need answers and all we got right now are too damn many questions."

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Ezra wondered how much longer he would ride today. Barely a couple of hours out of town and he was already feeling done in. He wasn't in the mood for travel. Wasn't much in the mood for anything really. Well, that wasn't true. A good strong drink would go down well right now.

He started to reach for his flask, then second guessed himself. He wasn't particularly well stocked in that area at the moment, and a chilly night ahead would have him wanting some liquid sustenance. On the other hand, how much damage would one good swallow do? What he needed was a place to take a bit of a respite from his wanderings. He wasn't overly familiar with the route he was taking, but if memory served, there was a creek bed not too much further along. Chaucer would appreciate the respite, and a break in the monotony seemed like an excellent idea.

Ten minutes of riding got him to the spot he remembered from a patrol that had taken him out this way to the Friesen farm once before. Recent arrivals to the area, their religious beliefs kept them from mingling very much with the townsfolk. He supposed that was why they had settled so much further from Four Corners than most. Quiet types, they had greeted him politely, but showed no interest in extending hospitality. He presumed that would still be the case, which was why he wasn't going to bother stopping at the property in search of a place to sleep for the night. Besides, he still had a couple of hours of daylight and hoped to get further from town on the off chance Chris changed his mind to come to arrest him. Or, and this was far more likely, that Buck came seeking the retribution he felt was warranted.

He wondered if JD had already passed on word of the route he had supposedly planned. If not, he would. If one had information that needed to be dispersed, telling JD was the fastest way he knew to do it. Anyone looking would head west toward Eagle Bend, or possibly south. So naturally, his ride was taking him to the northeast. Where he would end up was something he hadn't begun to figure out, but there was an abundance of territory to cover. He tried to calculate how long it would take him to ride to Chicago. There was a town with a great deal of promise. Of course, the climate was far from hospitable, but no plan was perfect.

He dismounted and let Chaucer make his way to the water while he headed to the shade of a small grove of trees. Vin would have been able to tell him what kind they were. All he knew was that, as there was no fruit hanging, they were of no interest to him beyond the shelter they offered. Sitting with his back against one of the largest ones gave him the first sense of security he'd had since leaving. Despite keeping an eagle eye out on his surroundings, he had failed to spot anyone following him. That didn't mean he could shake the feeling it was happening. He scanned the horizon again, still not seeing another rider in sight.

"You are suffering from delusions of persecution Standish." He admonished himself. "On the other hand, that could have something to do with the fact that you have so many enemies. Understandable, but hardly productive."

Looking around one last time, and satisfied he was alone, he closed his eyes, hoping for that short nap he had been cheated out of earlier in the day.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**_tbc_**


	7. Chapter 7

The awareness of a shadow being cast over him came just a couple of seconds to late to allow him to react. He opened his eyes in time to see the fist nearing his face, and the fact that his head was resting against the tree left him no chance to pull back from it. Several swift kicks followed, and he felt hands pawing over him, removing weapons, along with anything else they found. Even his boots were pulled off to get at the cash he had hidden there. Whoever this was, they knew him.

Opening his eyes again seemed like far more effort that it would be worth, and quite possibly would serve to initiate a second attack, but he had the impression that was bound to happen regardless of his actions. His vision was blurred and all he could make was were vague shapes and a semblance of colours.

"Long time no see Standish."

The voice sent a chill down his spine. He and Cyrus hadn't exactly been what anyone would call friends and when they last parted he had left the big oaf in the custody of a small town sheriff. He was willing to bet he was about to pay dearly for that miscalculation.

Although several appropriate, or in this case inappropriate, responses leapt to mind, for once in his life he chose to refrain from inviting trouble. That was only partially due to the dread that any words would serve only to further irritate his assailant. Equally at cause was the fact his jaw, already aching from the earlier confrontation with Buck, felt now like it may well be broken, or that trying to move it would garner that result. The taste of blood wasn't helping matters either.

"Never known you to be at a loss for words." The comment was punctuated with another solid kick to his chest, leaving him gasping. His effort to pull away told him how much damage that hit had done.

"You want to get a couple of shots at him Harlan? While he can still feel them?"

Harlan? The name didn't ring any bells, but there really was no reason it should.

"Nah, I don't have the same stomach for this that you do. We should just shoot him and get it done with." Violence for profit was one thing, but this sadistic attack was of no interest to him. "Just do what we came here for and get it over with."

"Annabella didn't say to shoot him. She said to take care of him. That's what I aim to do."

Son of a bitch! She was having him killed? He didn't want to believe she had sunk that low, but somehow it wasn't a complete surprise. It was, however, both disappointing and disconcerting.

Any intention he had of trying to analyse her actions any further were quickly driven out by several more kicks focusing on his sides and back. He felt himself being lifted of the ground and thrown against the tree before a seemingly unending stream of punches were delivered to his midsection. It crossed his mind that he had done nothing to defend himself but his effort to raise his hands to strike back failed him. His brain was sending the message, but his body was too deeply in shock to respond. He felt his arm snap as he was thrown to the ground and the kicking began again.

Just as he was about to surrender and pass out, it stopped. His breath was nothing more that faint gasps, the wheezing sound telling him that he was likely going to be coughing up blood if he could even get the strength to do so. He wanted to play dead. Make the bastard think his work was done, but his body simply wouldn't respond to his commands. Instead he lay on the ground, trembling and shaking violently, racked with pain.

"Don't get your hopes up Standish. I ain't done with you yet." The words broke through the haze in his brain, but what really registered was the unmistakable sound of a switchblade knife being opened. The first cut across his chest had him screaming as the agony became too much. He was unconscious an instant later, but that wasn't enough to make Cyrus's brutality stop.

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First morning light had Abram Friesen and his two oldest sons heading into town. It wasn't something he was overly fond of doing but was necessary at times. He had felt no hatred for the town. To do so would be most unchristian. But the sights and sounds his sons were exposed to while there disturbed him. The last time there had been a good deal of swearing going on, along with the spectacle of public fighting. A brawl that had started in the tavern had spilled into the streets. And the appearance of some of the women who came out to watch was beyond scandalous. Sinful. There was no other word. Too many things happened in that town to make it a place for a good God-fearing man, but some days that had to be set aside. There were supplies to be picked up, and provisions to help the family get by until more of the crops were ready for harvesting. Jacob and Caleb had to come with him to help with the loading, but he wasn't about to let the young men be exposed to such moral degradation any longer than necessary. He hoped the early start, leaving as the sun's rays were barely in the sky, would get them there before the worst of the heathens were up and about. That lot were rarely early risers.

Caleb, as usual, had his nose in the Good Book and was unaware of the world passing by. Jacob had been quiet since they'd left the house a short time ago. Probably tired, as this was even earlier than he normally had to rise. Some chores needed to be done before they could leave, so the lad was up well before the sun this day. He tried to sit straight beside his father, but he really just wanted to slouch down and try to get another few minutes sleep. But that would be frowned upon, so he tried instead to find ways to distract himself.

Looking out over the countryside, he initially saw nothing but patently familiar sights. The rocky gully, the slightly rolling hills, the distant flat lands. All things he had seen too many times. As his gaze shifted toward the trees by the creek he suddenly sat up straighter. He actually rubbed at his eyes, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"Father, look." He pointed at his finding. A horse, standing near the small gulch next to the grove.

"Wild horse? Here?" It wasn't unheard of but was nevertheless something they hadn't seen this close to their land.

"No, not wild Father. I think he has a saddle."

That could mean trouble. "Then there is someone there with him. We need not concern ourselves with the matter."

The words were barely out of his mouth when Jacob saw the stray animal turn toward them and break into a gallop. He charged toward their wagon coming to a stop just feet in front of their own horse. Abram tried to steer the wagon around the equine blockade, but it was a wasted effort.

"I think he is trying to tell up something is wrong Father."

"Nonsense. He is an animal and cannot do such things."

Caleb looked up from his reading for the first time. "Perhaps God is using him as a messenger. You have said we should look for the hand of God in all creatures."

Unable to deny the words, Abram used the reins to turn his horse and the started toward the grove.

Nothing seemed out of place on first glance, but Jacob jumped from the wagon to take a closer look. He quickly saw a spot where the ground was scuffed and trampled looking. Kneeling down, he could see dark rust coloured stains in some spots.

"Father, this looks to be dried blood." He stood, scanning the area for more clues. Abram climbed down to join him and was the first to see the trailing marks leading to the gulch.

"Stay here Jacob." The boy had already started to move forwarded but heeded his father's command.

Tentatively, the farmer approached the edge. He had the terrible feeling that he knew what he would find, but the shock of seeing it was greater than he'd anticipated. "Lieber Gott im Himmel erbarmen mit seiner Seele."*

He skidded down the embankment and rushed over to the body that lay there. Sure of what he would find, he reached out to check for any sign the man was still alive, impossible though that seemed. He was stunned at the weak almost imperceptible gasp that came when he touched him.

"Jacob, get me the blankets from the wagon. Then bring it down here. The hill is less steep to the north. Hurry boy."

He caught the blankets as they were thrown and hurried back.

"Please God, do not let this man die at my hand. Give me the strength to help him."

He didn't know where to start. His body was battered and bruised with blood seeming to be caked over every inch of him from wounds too numerous to count. Abram stripped off his own shirt, soaking it in the one of the rivulets that streamed down from above. As gently as was possible he began cleaning what he could without causing any more injury. The moans had stopped and the pitifully shallow rise and fall of the chest were now the only signs he had of life.

Although if felt like hours it was only a few minutes until the wagon approached, Jacob driving and Caleb sitting wide eyed in the back. Abram took a second to register how proud he was of his elder son at this moment, staying calm and collected in the face of what they were dealing with. He hoped the 12 year old could keep his focus as the mission became more challenging.

"We must act quickly son. We are going to have to move him to the wagon to take him to town."

Caleb climbed down, ready to help if he could. "Home would be closer Father. Wouldn't that be more prudent?"

He looked down at the unknown stranger. "We could not do what is needed. They have a healer in Four Corners." He stopped short of speaking aloud what he truly believed; it would not matter where they took him as it was extremely unlikely he would survive the trip. But they had to try.

Moving him was bound to open wounds again, not to mention the suffering it would cause. There was no way to avoid it, so the goal was to make it as swift as possible and minimize the harm. With prayers on his lips, Abram tucked the blankets as best as possible to make a sling. The trio lifted him, resulting in more gasps and whimpers which they did their best to ignore. Distraction from the task at hand would benefit no one.

Settling him quickly into the wagon, Abram checked as many of the injuries as he could, hoping that none of them had begun to bleed to severely. Satisfied that that was the case, he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Caleb, come by me. Jacob will sit with him." He didn't want the younger lad to be witness to death if it could be avoided. "Try to keep him from moving as much as is possible. This will not be a smooth ride, but there is no choice."

"If we go further to the south, the way will be smoother." Jacob didn't meet his father's eyes when he spoke. "I have wandered that way some evenings." When he should have been studying was the unspoken end to that sentence, but in this moment the risk of punishment did not matter.

Without comment, Abram took the reins and started on the voyage. It was only after they had traveled for a few minutes that he remembered the horse. He glanced back and saw exactly what he had expected; it was trotting along behind.

"Father, I think I have seen this man. When we were last in Four Corners, I am sure he was on the street."

"Yes, I had that thought as well. It is good that we can take him to be amoung his friends and family at this time." No man should die alone.

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Wiping his face clean again, Josiah paused his ride long enough to reach for his canteen and take a long gulp of water. It was too early in the morning for him to feel this warm, and the sun wasn't close to being at it's peak. He could only attribute his condition to the anxiety he was feeling. Disturbing images in his dreams had kept him from a decent sleep, and the presence of a half dozen crows on the roof of the church in the morning hadn't helped his frame of mind.

He and Vin met at the stables, exchanging few words as they prepared to head out. Plans had been laid out the night before for the day. After a brief discussion they both agreed that whatever Ezra had told JD was nothing more than a diversion. Which meant that it was all but certain the he had travelled neither south nor west. But the other two compass points still left a great deal of room for speculation. Acknowledging Vin to have the better tracking skills to find Ezra off the beaten path, Josiah concluded that he should stick to the more travelled routes. Ezra had patrolled to the north of town only a few times, but at least that offered a marginal familiarity. With that in mind, he headed out on what he had hoped would be a successful hunt.

The plan was to ride for half a day which would take both men close enough to settlements where they might find someone who had seen him. They had planned to leave a message for Chris to telegraph the sheriff at Eagle Bend, and anyone else he could think of, just in case their supposition was wrong. It wasn't needed as he was up and waiting to see them off at stables, looking every bit as unsettled as Josiah felt.

Now, just over an hour into the ride, Josiah was feeling the weight of the futility of the effort. Finding Ezra was enough of a longshot. Talking him into coming back was verging on the impossible. The man was no fool, and the last 24 hours had to have convinced him that a future in Four Corners was nothing more than a pipe dream. For what felt like the hundredth time Josiah curses the fates that had him out of town when this transpired. Not that he believed for a moment he could have swayed Buck's attitude, but he might have been able to calm the waters enough to have staved off Ezra's departure. At a minimum, he could have reassured the southerner that not everyone was ready to accept his guilt.

Such thoughts weren't helping. He needed to be on his way with no more dawdling. It was impossible to predict if Ezra would hold to his habit of sleeping for as long as he could in the mornings. The absence of his comfortable lodgings was likely to alter his routine. "On the other hand Lord, I wouldn't object to having something go in our favour on this one." He looked at he heavens as he spoke, trying not to be discouraged by the lack of immediate gratification.

It was some twenty minutes later when he spotted a wagon heading towards town. From this distance he wasn't able to identify the riders, but if there was even a chance they had spotted Ezra, they had to be asked. He changed his course to meet their advance. It wasn't long until they were close enough for him to note there were definitely two on board, and possibly a third in the body of the wagon. That wasn't what caught his attention. It was the horse following behind that spurred him to action. Galloping toward the vehicle, he drew his weapon, keeping it down at his side but at the ready. He relaxed slightly when he recognized the driver but kept the rapid pace.

There was no time for pleasantries. "Brother Friesen, how did you come by that horse?"

"I saw this man in town Father." Caleb said softly, thoroughly intimidated by the man's size, tone and needless to say, weapon.

"Yes Caleb. He is building the church." He turned to Josiah. "We discovered him by the groves. I believe he belongs to our passenger." As he nodded toward the back of the wagon, Josiah drew closer. His heart dropped as he looked into the back.

"Oh dear God Ezra."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_

_* Translation: Dear God in heaven have mercy on his soul. _ Courtesy of Google Translate. My apologies if what I am guessing is a rough translation is embarrassingly inaccurate.


	8. Chapter 8

Buck walked away from the stables, kicking at the dirt as he left. Peso and Prophet were both missing from their stalls. Neither man had an early patrol, so there had to be some other reason they were on the trail so early. It didn't take any kind of genius to put 2 and 2 together on this one. They'd gone out looking for Ezra.

He felt sick and betrayed at the thought. How could they be taking the side of that bastard? After what he had done, why were they out now trying to find him? It sure as hell wasn't to bring him home for trial. Chris had made it clear to him last night that wouldn't happen. No evidence beyond Clarice's story, and since she wasn't willing to press charges and testify, there was nothing they could do. More like nothing they wanted to do. Even JD had fallen for the double dealer's lies. So much for loyalty.

Making his way back across town, Buck debated for a moment about stopping in at the jail but realising that it was likely Chris was there was reason enough for him to pass by. He turned instead to the diner, knowing he could get some breakfast there in peace and quiet.

He looked around as he entered, trying to spot an open table. Nathan waved him over, pushing a chair out for him. He was almost done his breakfast, but in no rush to leave.

"Sit down Buck. You look like you just lost your last friend."

"Thinking maybe that's close to being right." He looked up when the waitress approached. "Give me a steak if there's one ready. And about 3 fried eggs honey." She smiled flirtatiously, frowning when he failed to respond.

"One steak and only 3 eggs? You feeling okay Buck?"

"No Nathan, I ain't. This town is sort of killing my appetite."

Should have seen that coming. "Chris had no choice in this Buck. You've got to know I'm no happier about this than you are, but what was he supposed to do?"

There was no answer for a minute. His head was telling him Nathan was right, but his gut was going in the other direction. Stewing over the dilemma, he sat quietly for a moment before giving into his anger.

"Hell Nathan it ain't right. Standish is going God knows where and will be able to do God knows what to whoever he wants. How are you gonna feel if we find out he ends up killing some poor girl?"

The healer had had the same concerns himself. The answer he'd come up with wasn't too satisfying but was the best he could do. "I don't see that happening. Now hang on Buck. I'm not taking his side on this, but from what I understand, this was something that happened a while back."

"Same could be said about slavery, but I don't see you excusing that."

He bristled at the words. "I'm not excusing anything. All I'm saying is that this happened in a different time when people were not at their best. That doesn't make it right, or excusable, and sure as hell not forgivable. But my gut tells me Standish isn't likely to pull something like that again."

"Standish looks out for himself, first and only. If he can't get what he wants fair and square, he'll cheat and lie to see it happen. Now we know that ain't just money and the like – goes for women too. Don't see that skunk losing his stripe."

They stopped talking when the waitress came back, placing the plate in front of Buck and smiling again. She turned on her heel when he didn't even look up.

Nathan cleaned off what was left on his plate before asking the question that had been bothering him. "That why you went after him yesterday?"

Buck almost dropped his fork. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you ride out of town Buck. Not 15 minutes after Ezra did. You're telling me that was just a coincidence?"

There was no answer as Buck focused on his meal.

"What were you going to do if you caught up to him?" Still no answer, and Nathan was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. "Buck – did you catch up with him?"

"I don't want him coming back here and everyone keeps telling me I can't arrest him. So why would I have gone after him?"

Concern gripped him as Nathan lowered his voice to avoid having any of the other tables aware of the discussion. "Buck, tell me you didn't find Ezra yesterday."

Standing, Buck through a few coins on the table. "Lost what was left of my appetite. For breakfast, and for Four Corners." He left the half cleared plate on the table and walked away.

Nathan leaned back in his seat, shocked by the possibilities of what he had just heard, and by what hadn't been said.

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Buck stormed down the road toward the hotel. Even Nathan was questioning him. The one man he was sure would be every bit as glad as he was to see Standish gone was actually questioning him. What right did anyone have to be doubting his integrity?

Yes, he'd ridden out of town yesterday afternoon, but he wasn't following anybody. He needed time to think things through, and since Clarice had said she needed to rest and deal with all of this, he saddled up and rode out. And he would be lying if he tried to say it hadn't crossed his mind to follow Standish and at the very least teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget. Only the knowledge that he wasn't completely sure he could control himself once he started kept him from doing so.

In hindsight, as much as he hated to admit it, he was glad Chris had stopped him yesterday. Killing Ezra might – no – would have been gratifying in the moment, but that wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be. Foolish as it sounded, he kind of liked being a lawman, loosely defined as that was in Four Corners. Not being official did give them a certain leeway when it came to enforcement of the rules, but that didn't extend to shooting a man who was refusing to draw back.

In the quiet sleepless hours he had spent last night, he puzzled over the fact Ezra didn't take that challenge. He could see Standish's face clearly in his mind. No matter how good a gambler he was, no one bluffed like that staring down the barrel of a gun. He could see it in his eyes. Ezra wasn't going to fight back. That had to mean he was guilty, and ready to face his punishment – didn't it? Why else would he refuse to defend himself?

_He did defend himself. _He could hear JD's voice in his head. Standish had denied it. Well of course he did. Why admit it? But then why not fight? He was going around in circles, trying to find an answer when he wasn't even sure what question he should be asking. It kept him tossing and turning in his bed until the early hours.

Now, in the light of day, his anger was back again, and he pushed any faint uncertainties out of his mind. If this was the way things were playing out, then he wanted no part of it any longer. Clarice wanted to go west, that was fine with him. There was a stage due in tomorrow that would get them on their way.

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His anger disappeared when he saw her sitting in the lobby of the hotel. It was impossible for him to look at her and feel anything but wonderful. She was gazing out the window, the light catching the highlights of her blond hair. She seemed to be a million miles away and he hated to disturb the peace she seemed to have found. But he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he told her he was ready to go with her.

"Good morning darlin'." He smoothly slipped into the chair next to hers, his heart lifted by the smile he got.

"Yes, it is a good morning, isn't it? I feel better than I have in – oh, I don't know how long. Like a door has opened and let a freshness into my very soul. Doesn't all that sound just too silly for words?"

"Not coming from you it doesn't. And I think I've got a news that is going to make the day even better. You can leave for San Francisco tomorrow."

Her face fell. "Leave? You want me to leave? But I thought –"

He grabbed her hands in his. "No, I don't mean it that way. I should have said WE can leave tomorrow. I'm coming with you. We'll get out of this town. Away from it all. Memories, false friends. All of it. Just you and me starting over. All of this behind us."

Damn it to hell and back. This was not what was supposed to be happening. "Buck, are you sure? I thought you loved being here."

"Not as much as I love you." There. He said it. His heart had known from the moment he saw her take that misstep off the stage and stumble into his arms. It just took a little while for his head to catch up.

"Oh Buck. Don't say that. I – I don't know if I am ready to hear that. With all that you know about me you can't possibly mean it." _Not to mention what you would think if you knew more about me. _She had to concentrate to keep her thoughts from reflecting on her face.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found a woman like this. "Only thing I need to know about you is that my day gets better the minute I see you. Nothing else matters to me."

All right, that tactic wasn't going to work. She turned away, trying to look like she was sorting through this revelation while in reality trying to turn down the heat. Any minute now the fool was likely to propose, and then she really would be out of options. He'd probably insist they married before leaving town, to keep her supposed honour intact. Damn it, why were the Romeos always so impetuous?

"No Buck. Not yet. I can't leave Four Corners yet."

"Why not? There's nothing keeping you here. Nothing keeping me here any longer either."

"Oh, but there is. I have to come to terms with all of this, and I have to do it here. I need to know that these people accept me. That they know what happened and still don't look on me as some kind of fallen woman, unclean and unworthy. If I leave this town in shame I don't know that I can ever feel worthy again. I know it sounds foolish…" She turned to him, a tear rolling down her cheek. He reached up and gently brushed it away.

"Not foolish. And I don't think you need to worry about that, but if it is what you need to do, then I will be right beside you. I'll do whatever you need."

"If you truly mean that, then there is something that will help." He nodded, so she continued. "I need you to resolve this fight you are having with Mr. Larabee. No Buck, please hear me out. He did what he had to do yesterday. The fact that he – Segal – I mean Standish" she choked slightly as she spoke the name, "can't be arrested is my fault, and no one else's. I simply can't abide the thought of sitting in a courtroom and telling what he did."

She was sobbing gently now, wondering to herself how much further she would have to go with this to convince him.

"You mustn't end your friendship over something that was my fault. I can't have that on my conscience."

The small nervous flicker of her eye showed him how much all of this meant to her. He was almost brought to tears himself by the brave smile she still managed to give him.

Buck moved from the chair to squat in front of her. "If that's what you need, then I'll do it, or least ways try to. Ain't saying we can ever be friends like we were, but I'll talk to him and try to make things good again. But please, don't ask me to do that with the others. Vin, Josiah – hell, even JD. They made their choices, and I don't think I can accept them."

"That saddens me deeply. I guess I can understand their friendship with him makes if hard to accept such a shocking revelation. To lose faith in someone you have trusted."

The words brought an unexpected snigger. "Trust and Standish are two words that never went hand in glove. We all knew he was a liar and cheat. Hell, he even called himself a reprobate. Bragged on some of the cons he used to pull on folks to clean them out of their earnings."

Oh yes, that sounded like her Ezra. Much more than this lawman persona he seemed to be trying to adopt. "My heavens! Why would you ever take such a man into the fold? Why would they trust him now?"

"Way Chris saw it, sometimes you need a man like that to get the job done. Not that we could even count on him for that." Buck sat quietly for a moment. He knew that wasn't entirely fair. Since that first betrayal at the village, Ezra had been there when they needed him. Hell, he'd even managed to help them take down the James family by walking into the lion's den. There definitely were layers to him that none of them had expected.

He shook himself slightly before getting lost in past memories. That was then; things were different now.

Seeing him drifting off and not wanting to him to lose focus, she brought her hand gently to his face. "We will both do what we have to do to cope with all of this. I'm sure there will be more stagecoaches coming that can take us away when we have accomplished our goals." She stood. "Now sir, how would you like to escort a lady for a walk about town. I need to start facing my fears and I need you beside me to do it."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	9. Chapter 9

Josiah stared into the wagon, unable to accept what he was seeing. "Where did you – what happened?" The rage was scarcely contained.

"We found him. The horse showed us where." Jacob spoke first. "Father had tried to help. It wasn't our doing."

Forcing himself to calm, Josiah regrouped. "No, of course not." He dismounted and carefully climbed in next to his wounded friend.

The scale of the damage was overwhelming. Ezra's face was swollen, distended almost beyond recognition. Both eyes were swollen shut and it was evident several bones were broken. Bruising covered him and most of the wrapping that had been applied were stained with fresh blood. He shuddered at the images that came to his mind of Ezra being so savagely attacked and tried to imagine what kind of rage could inspire such violence. The thought that came to mind was as disturbing as the act itself. For the moment, he had to set it aside.

"Ezra? Son, can you hear me? It's Josiah. We are going to get you home, and Nathan's gonna fix you up. Good as new. You hear me Ezra?"

There was no reaction. No sign that Ezra knew he was no longer alone. Josiah leaned back for a moment, trying to sort out a plan. What he was about to ask of this family was going to violate their beliefs, but he could see no options.

"Brother Friesen, I need to ask you to do something I know will offend you, but you must believe me when I tell you this man's life depends upon it."

"I will not violate the laws of God."

He had expected that to be the response. "I grant you, this will involve a bit of lying, but I think the spirit of the law, so to speak, will be honoured."

"_Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour._"

"You won't be speaking against anyone, I promise you. And according to the Book Of Joshua, didn't God forgive Rahab for her lie that saved lives? Or what about the Book of Ephesians? "_Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers_. This is not corrupt. This is ministering to save a man's life."

"What is it you wish? I shall decide when I know."

Josiah could feel a small bit of his own tension fade. "Before we get to that, can Jacob ride a horse?"

"Yes sir, I can."

"Good lad. You will take my horse to town." He didn't want to put any undo pressure on the youngster, so decided to keep things as simple as possible. "Find Chris Larabee. Anyone you ask will be able to point him out for you. Tell him Josiah told you to say a sick man - don't say who - is coming to the church and we need Nathan."

Jacob looked to his Father. "Is this allowed?"

Before he could reply, Josiah answered. "You aren't lying son. I **am** telling you to say that."

Abram looked at Josiah with a small scowl. "For a man of God, you have a devious nature."

"Brother Friesen, I have learned over the years that a great many so-called men of God possess that trait."

Time was wasting. Josiah wanted things to get on the road again and get Ezra to help as soon as possible. Looking down again, he had to wonder if there was really anything that could be done. He doubted it to his core but wasn't going to give up.

"Go Jacob. Do as Brother Sanchez has asked. Say no more than you must but take care not to put this man at risk. We will have to pray for forgiveness for our falsehoods, but it is preferable to seeking forgiveness for allowing a man to die."

Jacob headed toward Chaucer but was stopped. "No, take my horse. I don't want anyone to see Chaucer coming back to town. Too many questions. I'm staying with Ezra, so this works best." He turned and looked at the younger boy. "What about you son? Can you ride as well?"

Caleb had long ago stopped be frightened by the big man, easily seeing the concern and compassion he showed for his friend. "Yes, Father taught all of us how. Am I going with Jacob?"

"No. You'll be taking Chaucer somewhere safe." Assuming I can get the him to agree to that, he added to himself. He left the wagon and walked over the anxious horse.

"OK Chaucer. I don't know if you ever listen to anyone but Ezra, but I hope I can get through to you. You need to get this boy home and stay away from town. I'm betting that doesn't appeal to you, but it's what has to be done. And knowing how Ezra seems around kids, I'm guessing he'd tell you to be gentle with young Caleb." He knew what he was doing was ridiculous, but he was sure the saw something in the reaction to tell him the message had gotten through. He lifted the boy into the saddle and after a few adjustments rider and horse seemed secured.

"Tell your mother it might be a day or two before your father can return. Once things get sorted out, I promise we will find a way to make up for anything this might cost you all."

With a quick look back at his father, and a prayer that nothing went wrong, Caleb headed for home.

Jacob had already settled onto Prophet and waited for Josiah to adjust the stirrups for him. "I will find Mr. Larabee and Mr. Nathan and make sure they are ready. Other than that, I speak to no one, then I will not have to lie."

"Mr. Jackson is the healer's name. If you can't find Larabee, look for him. If you can't find either, just wait for us in the church."

Climbing back into the wagon he checked on Ezra again, hoping to see a change that he knew wouldn't be there. "OK Brother, let's go."

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There was little conversation. The only sounds were Josiah's mumbled reassurances to Ezra, and Abram prayers. They stopped only once, to allow the men to switch positions as they got closer to town. As much as Josiah didn't want to leave Ezra's side, it was necessary if the plan was going to work.

A rider in the distance had Josiah on alert. "Brother Friesen. Cover Ezra and lie down yourself. Stay quiet, no matter what I say."

Looking into the sun, it took him a few moments longer than it should have to recognize Chris as he drew near. The relief he felt was more than just knowing there was no danger. Having at least one of the team here suddenly made things seem better.

Chris halted a good distance away from the wagon. "You got someone sick in there?"

"Not exactly."

Spurring Pony on, Chris approached. "Yeah, I didn't think so. That boy you sent isn't the best liar I've ever encountered. What's going on?"

"Does anyone else know you came out?"

"Just Nathan. He's doing want you asked, setting up the church for whatever it is you're bring – holy shit!" He was close enough to see inside. Abram had removed the covering from Ezra on determining the rider was no threat, and Chris's reaction was not unexpected.

"He's bad Chris. Real bad. Given where I found him, or rather where Brother Friesen and his boys did, this had to happen late yesterday. He was lying like this all night." He looked down again. "I don't know if Nathan's gonna be able to do anything."

They kept the steady but careful pace back to town, Chris now riding alongside. He hadn't bothered to ask any questions, knowing Josiah had already told him every bit of what little information he had. Him mind was occupied with trying to figure out who had done this – and trying to come up with an alternate explanation to the first thing that had come to mind. He refused to believe that Buck would do something like this. Something this vicious and cruel. Shooting Ezra in the street in the heat of the moment when he had first found out was one thing, but a deliberate cold blooded attack, leaving him dying in the wilderness. That wasn't Buck. There had to be someone else.

While there was no denying that they all had their share of enemies, Ezra may have had a few more. It wasn't just the myriad of people who felt, rightly or wrongly, that they had been taken advantage of, although that was quite likely a significant tally. There were others who travelled on the same side of the law as the gambler had for years, any one of whom might be looking to get even with him for past indiscretions. And there was always the chance, slim given the violence of the attack, that this was nothing more than a random robbery.

When he could see the outline of town coming closer, he finally spoke. "What's your plan here Josiah?"

"We take him to the church. Back way. Anybody asks, it's Brother Friesen feeling poorly, and we are keeping him away from folks to make sure the sickness doesn't spread."

"Think anyone is going to believe that?"

"They will if we sell it right."

Next came the question he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. "Who do you figure did this?"

"I don't rightly know Chris. I know what you're thinking and what most folks will. Hate to think that might be the case."

"You didn't see Buck yesterday Josiah. JD and I hadn't stepped in, he'd'a killed him then."

"Maybe. We'll never know." He turned enough to look Chris in the eye. "You've known him longer than any of us have. Can you believe this of him?"

He was quiet for a minute. "I don't want to. No. I don't buy it. I can't. Just need to come up with a better answer."

"I think we both know there has to be one."

The ride got quiet again for a few minutes.

"What are we telling the others?"

Josiah had been thinking about little else for most of the trip home. They had no choice but to make Nathan aware of Ezra's return. He wouldn't survive without the healer's gifts. He may not anyway. Josiah had to believe that, despite the fundamental distrust that he felt, Nathan would do nothing less than his best to try to save the man and do what was necessary to protect him as well.

There were no concerns about telling Vin. The tracker was the most patient man he had ever met and would therefore have no real problem controlling his need to seek out who was responsible and administer the appropriate justice. Which wasn't to say that wouldn't happen, but it would keep until Ezra was out of harm's way.

JD was another matter. The youngster was completely lacking when it came to subterfuge. Every emotion showed on his face. It was a trait he was going to need to learn to control if he was to survive out here, and he was getting better. But something like this was going to be more than he could handle.

"I've got an idea, but you're not gonna like it."

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Moving Ezra into the church without anyone seeing it was him was easier than Chris had hoped it would be. He issued orders for JD and Buck to keep everyone away from the building, allowing word to start circulating around town that there was someone sick being treated there. He made it clear it wasn't a threat, not wanting to incite any kind of panic. But it might be serious enough that no one should come to the church.

"That goes for the two of you as well. We're gonna be short on lawmen, with Josiah exposed to this and Nathan tending to Mr. Friesen. Need you two to stay clear."

"You being quarantined too?" JD was worried about their dwindling numbers.

"No, I kept my distance, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Nathan's reaction at seeing his patient was pretty much as expected. The shock and confusion came and went quickly as he realized the magnitude of the injuries that had been inflicted.

"Why did you bring him here?"

Chris stared at him. "Because he's hurt, and you're the only one around here who might have a chance at being able to help him. He may not be a saint, but he still deserves that."

It was Nathan's turn to stare. "Of course he does. Damn it Chris, did you think I wouldn't tend to him? I may not be a doctor, but I have heard of the Hippocratic Oath, and try to honour it best as I can. What I meant was, why didn't you bring him to the clinic? I thought I was tending to a fever. I don't have what I need."

A wave of relief swept over him. Knowing how strongly Nathan felt about Ezra and what he was accused of, he was expecting to have a fight on his hands to get the healer to take care of this. He now felt a bit ashamed of that. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll bring it over. As for why here, we don't want people knowing he's back."

"People, or Buck?"

Chris looked at him. "You too? You think Buck did this?"

"Wouldn't blame him." He sighed and knelt next to the man who until 24 hours ago had been, if not a friend, at least a colleague. The memory of his breakfast conversation with Buck rushed back to him. He never denied leaving town to go after Ezra. Could he really have been this cold and calculating in taking his revenge? "No Chris, I don't see it. I just don't see Buck taking things this far."

"Strange isn't it?" Josiah stood close by, not taking his eyes from Ezra's too still form. "Everyone is willing to give Buck the benefit of the doubt, despite the proof we have of his anger and the fact he was out of town. No one gave Ezra some same courtesy."

Chris didn't care to acknowledge the veracity of the comment so spoke to Nathan instead. "I've got a fair idea of what you need from the clinic. I'll be back."

Silently, Nathan began the task of stripping the bloodied and torn clothing from Ezra, trying to expose all of the injuries and prioritize his treatment plan.

"You did a good job of patching him up Josiah."

"Not my work. You can thank Brother Friesen for that."

Hearing his name brought the farmer out of his contemplative state. He'd been staring around the building, trying to remind himself that this was a church. The empty whiskey bottle sitting on the pulpit made that challenging.

"I did what was needed."

"You did it very well." Nathan didn't pass out praise like that without cause. "Think I can impose on you to help me out for a bit longer here?"

"Certainly. Your companions tell me I must stay hidden here at least until dark, so I should be useful. The devil finds work for idle hands."

Together, they began the slow and quite possible futile task of tending to Ezra.

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Josiah had been wrong. It wasn't that Chris didn't like the plan – it was more accurate to say he hated it. Hated pretty much everything about it. But he couldn't deny it was probably the best way to go.

He'd never been a man who was good at doing nothing, particularly when there was trouble about. But that was all that there was for him at this point. Even if he'd wanted to stay at the church to help, it would have raised questions, mostly from JD and Buck. Getting the supplies for Nathan hadn't taken much time, and now he was at a loss for what to do next. Deciding the best bet was to just do what he'd be doing if this hadn't been an act, he left the church and went to Mary's, to ask her to help spread the word about the quarantine at the church. It would be old news by the time the paper next came out, but she was equally adept at spreading a message by word of mouth. She was smart enough to not broach the subject of Ezra's departure, or how everyone was handling it. Conversation was awkward and strained so after chatting for a moment Chris announced he had things to do and headed off. He made his way to the saloon, reminding himself that getting drunk, tempting as that notion was, wouldn't help. But one beer wouldn't hurt either.

Woody brought the glass over and put an envelope down at the same time. Chris didn't have to say anything. His look asked the question.

"Found it in Mr. Standish's room when Victoria went in to make sure it was cleaned out proper. You know, so we can rent it out again."

"Hold off on renting it." He realized he couldn't say the real reason why. "Tanner might want to move in."

Looking like he really didn't care one way or the other, Woody just shrugged and went back to the bar. Chris stared after him, wondering why he had kept Ezra's room. It wasn't as if he expected the gambler was going to be changing his plans, assuming he survived this ordeal. Once he was healed, he'd be moving on again. So why did that thought suddenly bother the gunslinger?

He looked at the envelope. His name was the only thing on there, and there was no question as to who wrote it. No one else in town wrote that way, with the curls and the scrolls. The letter inside was less ornate, which certainly made it easier to read. He leaned forward, arms on the table and started reading. By the time he got to the end he was beginning to wish he'd never heard of Four Corners or the people in it. That way, he wouldn't be smack in the middle of this nightmare.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	10. Chapter 10

Chris rode out of town, taking the route Vin had taken in the morning. Unless the tracker had been following some false leads, he was pretty sure where he'd find him. A little less than an hour later he was proven right, as he spotted his quarry off in the distance, riding slowly toward town. He rode out to meet him.

"No luck Chris. No sign of him. Of course, maybe you think that was good luck." Taking out his fatigue and frustration on Chris wasn't entirely fair, but he couldn't get past the idea that some of the blame for all of this was on him. On all of them, if he was being honest. Maybe if their initial doubts and concerns about Ezra hadn't become common knowledge, the town would have been more accepting of him, and just maybe at least a few people might have come to his defence over these ridiculous accusations. When he got no response to his small tantrum he knew something was up.

"Josiah found him."

"From your tone, I'm guessing things didn't go well."

"Hold up Vin." The two men stopped riding. "He found Ezra hurt. Bad. Nathan's working on him."

Vin felt a pit forming in his stomach. "Hurt how?"

"Somebody beat on him. Looks like it happened soon after he left town. Did one hell of a job."

"He say who did it?"

"He can't say much of anything. Unconscious since he was found."

After sizing up Chris's tone and posture, Vin felt a heaviness come over him. "He ain't gonna live, is he?"

Wishing he could lie yet knowing the truth was going to make it harder for Vin to do what was going to be asked of him, Chris swallowed hard before speaking. "Can't say for certain, but no, I wouldn't be placing on money on it."

"Then what the hell are we sitting out here for?"

Chris reached out and caught Vin by the sleeve before he could get going. "You can't help him there. You – we – might be able to at least get him some justice another way."

Reluctant to listen, Vin nevertheless exercised his patience as Josiah's plan was outlined. And like Chris's own reaction had been, the tracker hated it, but knew it was likely the only way to find out what happened before anything else went tragically wrong.

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Buck was, as expected, having dinner with Clarice when Chris got back into town. He joined them at the table, not bothering to take a seat.

"You look beat Cowboy."

He was too preoccupied with the situation to even bother challenging the label. "Everything quiet in town?"

"As much as ever. JD is doing a patrol around the town limits, but given our numbers, we figured it was best to stay close. Where'd you disappear to?"

"Got in my head it would be smart to check up on Friesen's family. None of them are sick, so we likely don't have a problem, but I think it's best if folks stay way from the church for couple days until Nathan can confirm all of that."

"So, this is nothing that might quarantine the town?"

Clarice's voice was tinged with a bit more concern than Chris thought was warranted, but maybe that was just because he was considerably more suspicious of everything right now. He wasn't totally surprised by her comment.

"See no reason to stop anyone from coming in. Or going out. That what you have planned?"

Buck looked him in the eye as he answered. "We both will be leaving just a soon as things get back to normal here. Don't want to leave you short handed, so we can wait for Josiah and Nathan to be back on duty."

"Just like that? No talk on the matter?"

"What is there to talk about? Vin, Josiah, hell – even JD are taken sides against Clarice. Doesn't seem any point to staying and putting her through that."

For the briefest of moments Chris considered pulling a chair over and really talking things out, but this wasn't the time or place. Buck probably wouldn't believe him anyway, and things were tense enough as is it was.

"They've got their loyalties Buck. Can't dictate to a man how to think. Anymore than I can tell you not to leave. If you don't have any trust in them, then you do what you have to. If that means moving on then I'll be sorry to see you go. Imagine they will too. I would like to talk on it some, maybe tomorrow?" He waited for a response but got none. "I'm going to the church to check on things there." He turned and left.

"Buck, darling, if you don't want to leave then you shouldn't be doing it because of me."

He looked at Clarice, his heart torn. The friendship with Chris went back so far he wondered at times if there had ever been a time they weren't together. Kin couldn't be closer. And the others had been settling quickly into that same place. Now, in the space of just a couple of days, that had all fallen apart. No, he didn't want to leave. He liked the life he had here. The problem was, he could no longer imagine going on without Clarice as a part of it. Try as he might, he saw no way that could happen, and he was at a loss for what to do.

She smiled at him in that way that made it impossible for him to think straight. "You need to go talk to your friend. Talk to all of them. I understand their loyalty, and as much as I might like to resent them for it, I can't. Truth be told, I kind of admire it. They don't know me, and they do know – or rather thought they knew – him."

"That's just it Clarice. We obviously didn't know him well enough. But it should have been enough to know that we never should have trusted him. What I don't get is why they don't see that?"

"They will. When the shock of all this goes away, they'll come to understand. I love the fact that you are so willing to defend me Buck, but not at any price. Please, if not the others, at least try to remain friends with Chris. For my sake?" _Because if you don't, _she thought to herself,_ this whole thing may go up in smoke_.

"I'll talk to him in the morning. See what we can settle on. But no promises."

Sipping at her coffee, she gazed at him over the rim of the cup. "Knowing what you are doing, what you are going through just for me – I can't tell you how much that means to be Buck. You're the first man I have been able to trust in far too long."

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The church was quiet when Chris came around to the back. Hoping that wasn't an omen of any kind, he knocked lightly on the temporary door and slid the wooden plank to the side. He'd have to remember to help Josiah fix that up properly when this was all over.

A lantern lit the back corner of the space. Nathan was stretched out on the front pew. He looked to be asleep, but Chris was certain the faintest suggestion of movement from Ezra would have him on his feet in an instant. Josiah sat close to the makeshift bed, watching closely.

It was Abram that Chris went to first. Jacob was sleeping on the pew behind his father. "Rode past your place. Caleb made it home safe. I told your wife we'd try to get you home tonight. Going to load your wagon with some supplies and hide you in with them. I'm assuming Jacob there can manage getting you home."

"Yes, he is quite capable that way. I think it would be best for your friend if such a performance waited for morning. People would expect my boy to stay with me for the night."

Chris nodded, grateful for the cooperation. "Yes, that would make sense. We could have you going at first light. Few folks up and about will make it easier." He started to turn away when it occurred to him there was something else needing to be said. "I want to thank you for everything you've done for us. I know it's not comfortable for you."

"It was the Christian thing to do. Nothing more than that."

Josiah hadn't moved during the conversation, nor did he even glance up a Chris approached. "You found Vin?"

"His reaction to your idea was about the same as mine, but he's going along with it. It's gonna get ugly in town tomorrow."

Taking a moment to gently wipe Ezra's face clean of the fever induced sweat, Josiah nodded. "It's already ugly Chris."

"Any change Josiah?" Nathan was sitting up, watching the two men. When Josiah shook his head sadly, he leaned back into the bench. "Can't honestly figure out how he's even still breathing."

Chris took the cue and came to sit next to him. "How bad?"

"Lost count of the number of stitches I had to put in him. He's deep cut in 'bout a dozen places and a few more less serious wounds on top of that. Ribs, front and back, are busted. From the trouble he's having breathing, I'd say his lungs were damaged – bruised bad at a minimum. Spittle was bloody before, but that seems to be settled some, so with luck that bleeding isn't critical. There was more bleeding inside, but I think it's all stitched. Hope so." He took a deep breath, trying to stay detached and only barely succeeding. "You want a list of broken bones? On top of the ribs there's his collarbone, jaw, left arm and hand, his nose. His one ankle is swollen up, so that's on the list too."

He paused. There was more, but he didn't want to say it out loud. It somehow made it more serious to do so. Feeling Chris's eyes on him, he sighed softly before resuming.

"Cheekbone is busted too. The way it broke, it might have affected his eye. It's bloody and so swollen I can't say for sure, but he might lose the left eye."

Chris cursed under his breath. He didn't see a way this could get worse, but he knew from reading Nathan's body language that it was about to.

"Number of hits he took to the head, there's gotta be bleeding in there Chris. I can't do anything about that. Was hard enough to stitch up what I could, but I don't know how to do something like that. And with him layin' outside all night, I doubt anything anyone could do would be in time now anyway."

"So IF he wakes up, he might not be all there?"

Nathan offered half a grin, trying desperately to put some kind of hope into the conversation. "Well, given how damned good Standish is at cheating, I don't see why he wouldn't be the one man who could cheat death as well."

After sitting quietly for a moment, watching Josiah minister to Ezra, Chris stood slowly and left the church and headed home for the night.

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The tension in the town that developed the day Ezra left hadn't faded yet. There was confusion mixed in with it as people tried to decide which side to take in the standoff. No one was rushing to defend Ezra, but they weren't quite ready to berate the men who did. It didn't take a genius to know that alienating the people who defended the town wasn't the smartest play they could make. Not to mention the fact that, for the most part, the men were well liked. JD and his infectious enthusiasm and bad jokes brought a smile to peoples faces. Vin, with his soft spoken ways and gentle manners was a welcome face as well, and the simple fact that Josiah was building a church for them made him a valued member of the community. But morally, they were siding with Buck and his defence of a wronged woman. Not that the showdown in the street had been appreciated, but it was most definitely understood.

So as Buck made his way through town mid-morning he was acknowledging waves and greetings from almost everyone he passed. The only awkwardness came when he spotted JD leaving the boarding house. The two formerly close friends now barely spoke beyond what was needed for the job they shared. Buck avoided having to speak to him now by cutting across the street, knowing he would find Chris at the jailhouse.

Barely looking up from the papers he was reviewing at the desk, Chris waved a Buck to take a seat.

"So, you staying around?"

Buck was taken aback by the abruptness. "That's kind of to the point, isn't it?"

"I've got to make some plans and need to know where I stand. Vin should be back later today, I hope. Josiah is staying in the church, since it looks like he might be getting sick too. Assuming Nathan stays healthy, that's going to be just four of us, and I'm going to need a couple to ride escort for someone coming to town."

"Since when to we do that?"

"Since Judge Travis asked us to. He is the one who pays us, in case you forgot."

He hadn't been expecting that much attitude coming at him. "What flew up your ass Larabee? Not my fault we're shorthanded. I didn't ride out of town on some wild goose chase like Tanner, and I sure as hell didn't do anything to get myself run off either."

"I don't have time to worry about hurt feelings. There's a guy –" he looked down at the desk again, searching for a piece of paper "- name of McHenry coming into town with more cash than any sane man would carry. He's buying up properties and Travis figures he needs someone watching out for him."

"That's just what we need. When does this happen?"

"Waiting for confirmation on timing, but we're supposed to meet him this side of Kinstone Pass. He'd rented his own small stagecoach and will have an bodyguard till he gets to Maple Ridge."

That meant it was likely to be short notice. Buck supposed that was the idea, to make sure few people knew what was going on. But under the present circumstances, it was less than ideal.

"Yeah, to answer your question, I'll stick around. For a bit."

"Still planning on leaving after that though, aren't you?"

"Why would I stay?"

That was a response he hadn't expected. Apparently friendship and all that they had been through together meant nothing in the face of supposed true love.

"If you can't come up with a reason, I'm not going to do it for you." He stood up and opened the door, standing out of the way so that Buck would get the message. "I'll let you know when I'm going to need your help."

He watched as Buck left, hating that it was on these terms, and equally hating the fact he was using the man. It didn't help matters at all that he knew things were only going to get worse.

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Balancing on the two back legs of the chair that sat outside the jail house, Chris looked to the sun to figure on the time. Close to noon. He was expecting Vin to arrive any time now and set things in motion. The town was active, as expected. That was the reason behind the time. The more witnesses to this the better.

He tilted his hat down to shade his face and hide his gaze from passersby. He watched everyone who was on the street. Everyone who went in or out of any building. There were few unfamiliar faces in Four Corners at any time. Spotting no one he couldn't place, he cast his mind back over the past few days. There had to have been someone in town who was an unknown element. Someone who had been watching them. Watching everything. No face came to mind.

Hoofbeats pounding into town alerted him to the fact the show was about to start. He resisted the urge to get into the street ahead of schedule but waited for his moment.

"Where are you Wilmington? Get your ass out here!"

Barely waiting for his horse to come to a complete stop, Vin dismounted. His shouts did exactly as they were intended to, bringing those on the street to a standstill, and drawing others out of there homes or workplaces. Buck appeared from the saloon, looking understandably confused.

"He left town you son-of-a-bitch. But that wasn't good enough for you though, was it?" Vin charged up to him, shoving him backwards.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You killed him, didn't you? You killed Ezra!"

There were gasps from the crowds, and several townsfolk, reading the mood correctly, headed for cover.

"Standish is dead?"

Vin turned and walked a few steps away, clenching and releasing his fists in an effort to try to control himself. He faced his foe again. "You're gonna stand there and tell me you didn't know? Didn't do it? Didn't beat him to death and leave him in the middle of nowhere for the animals to scavenge?"

Shit. No one deserved to die like that. It took Buck a moment to realize he what he was being accused of.

"Are you loco Vin? You think I'd do that? For God's sake, if I'd beaten someone to death, don't you figure it'd show on my hands?" He held them up to prove his point.

"Not with your riding gloves on."

"I haven't got a mark on me Vin. You telling me Ezra just stood still and let me do something like that?"

Chris spoke from the door of the jail. "He just stood there when you drew on him. Why would this be different? And if you got the drop on him…"

"So not only did I beat him to death, I sucker punched and just kept going when he did nothing? You really think I would do that to him? To anyone?"

Chris took a few steps forward. "To anyone – no. To him? Gotta say Buck, you sure as hell have been acting like you would."

"You didn't have to do this Buck. That's what makes me so damned sick. He was gone – left town but that wasn't enough. You hunted him down like some animal."

"Where's your proof? If you're making claims like that, you damn sure better of something to back them up Tanner."

Vin was pacing angrily as he answered. "Got as much proof on this as you had on Ezra. Gut instinct. You didn't need more than that to try to kill him in town. Then you just had to follow up later."

"Where is he Vin?" Chris asked in solemn voice.

"Found him in a gully north of town. Beaten to death."

"Found who?" JD rode up, hearing only the last couple of sentences but knowing from the scene that something was very wrong.

Vin looked up at the worried face of their young colleague. This was the moment he was most dreading in this whole plan. They had agreed JD couldn't be let in on any of it, but this still seemed too cruel.

Chris spoke up, sparing at least one of his friends some of the hardship. "Ezra's dead kid. Vin found the body."

"No. That can't be. How? Why?" He slid from his horse and turned toward the undertaker's building.

"He ain't there kid. I took him to Eagle Bend."

JD's voice was shaking. "Why didn't you bring him home?"

"Because it seems this ain't his home. He wasn't wanted here. I sure as hell wasn't going to leave him to be handled by the folks that drove him away. Or by the man that did this."

Vin turned his gaze back to Buck, who took a few strides forward. Chris stepped between the two men. "Hasn't there been enough of that? Vin go cool off. You too Buck."

"Not cooling off. I am going though. Out of town. I'm done here."

JD couldn't stand the thought of another man leaving the team. "No Vin. You can't. Chris, tell him he can't go."

"It's clear this town doesn't want certain types around. If Ezra wasn't good enough for everyone here, I don't guess I am either." Vin headed for the wagon he called home. "I'll be gone in hour. Send my wages to the undertaker in Eagle Bend. Owe him for taking care of Ezra."

The street went still. Spectators disappeared into the closest refuge they could find, anxious to be away from the fallout of the scene. Chris watched Vin walk away before he returned to the jail. That left JD in the street, looking lost. He turned toward Buck, not moving any closer, but watching him for several seconds.

"You going to ask me if I did it?"

JD hesitated, finally speaking when he thought he had his voice under control. "I don't think I want to know."

"Good to know I've got the support of my friends."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	11. Chapter 11

Buck stomped away and stormed into the hotel so quickly he walked right past the person he had come to see. Clarice had to call out to him twice to get him to stop.

"Whatever is the matter darling?"

Her voice, normally so calming for him, failed to settle his anger. "We're leaving. Get your things together and we'll ride out now."

_Oh Good Lord! Not when they were this close_. "Buck, stop. What are you talking about?"

"Tanner just accused me of killing Standish. Can you believe it?"

No, she couldn't. They were supposed to make sure his body wasn't found at least until after the job was done – if ever. She should have known better than to trust those two fools with even the simplest of tasks.

"He's dead? Are you sure?"

He sat heavily in the closest chair. Hearing it said back to him the words hit him more than they had. Ezra was dead. If you'd asked him a just a short time ago Buck would have said he'd be glad to hear it. Now that it was real, he felt a hollowness at the news. Up until two days ago he'd worked with him, played cards with him and actually liked the man. There was a roguishness that he could identify with, especially when dealing with the more moralistic members of their group. Ezra could always be counted on to stir things up enough to keep things from getting dull, and that was a trait Buck could identify with and fully appreciate.

"Yeah." He roused himself from his trance. "All of this is just more reason to get the hell out of here. We're getting on that stage tomorrow."

"No." It was time to pull out all the stops. She had worked to long and sacrificed to much to walk away when success was within her reach. "You aren't running from this. You have to stand up to them Buck. You have to show them you aren't intimidated by their spurious accusations."

For just a second there, she reminded him of Ezra. He shook that off. "I've got nothing to prove."

She softened her tone. "Of course you don't. And that's why you need to stay. Do your job and don't cower away. Goodness gracious Buck. Running from this would make you no better than he was back at the – when you drew down." She had to get herself under control. Almost reminding him of the incident at the village, something she shouldn't know about, was just careless.

Hesitating, he thought on what she was saying. Maybe she was right. He had done nothing wrong but leaving town was sure to make folks think otherwise. And if Vin was going, maybe the accusations would stop as well. He still couldn't believe that anyone would think he was capable of that. He wasn't even being given a chance to defend himself, and what he did say fell on deaf ears. Damn them, they worked together. They should have trusted him. Well, he'd show them!

"Fine. Larabee has a job he needs me for, so I'll stick around for that. But then we're gone. Neither one of us needs this shi – this stuff."

She hoped she knew the answer to what she was about to ask, but needed to confirm it without raising his suspicions.

"A job? It won't be dangerous – will it? I just couldn't bear it if anything happened to you Buck."

How could things be bad when she was on his side? Tension faded from him as he was warmed by her concern. "Nah, it's nothing more than what we're used to. Chris and me will just be meeting up with a private stage. Guy has some hired protection, but for some reason they're only coming as far a Maple Ridge. We'll be meeting up after that. No idea what makes this McHenry guy so special, but I told Chris I'd do it and I ain't running out. I ain't giving them the satisfaction of calling me a shirker on top of everything else." He didn't want to admit, even to himself, that he could never live with himself if anything went wrong because he wasn't there.

Hallelujah! It was happening soon, and she even had the route information. Having the time would be great, but at least now she could let Harlan and Cyrus know where to wait. And hopefully stay out of trouble. The next step was to get word to them, and a message wouldn't do. This had to be face to face so that there were no more mistakes.

"I have one more favour to ask Buck." She turned on all her charm, and as expected, he folded under it.

"Now you know I can't refuse you anything."

"Come with me to the livery. I want to rent a horse. I need to get out of town for a bit. Clear my head of all of this."

That was easy enough. "Sure. We can take a picnic lunch out by the creek."

"No, I need a spot of time to myself. I want to be certain I am making the right choices, and for the right reasons."

He didn't like the idea of her riding off on her own, or that she wanted to think things over. But the look on her face made it evident that there was no stopping her. That kind of pluck was part of what he found so appealing, so without saying another word he stood and offered her his arm and they headed out.

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Finding the spot where her cohorts had camped out was easy. Keeping some kind of control on her temper was far less so.

"It was a simple enough job, but you two still managed to nearly destroy everything we've been working for."

Harlan glared at her. "You wanted him out of the picture, so we took care of it. What's the big deal?"

"Do you have any idea how close we are to having it all blow up in our faces?" She turned her anger to Cyrus. "His body wasn't supposed to be found so quickly."

"So what? So they found him. Ain't like they can tie that to me. Or to us. Hell, they probably figure your boyfriend did it. Sure as hell made him mad enough to."

"That is the problem. I need him to still be trusted enough that Larabee will keep him informed." This rift was certainly making it easier for her to manipulate him, but if he was no longer part of the inner circle there wasn't much point to the whole effort.

Keeping the group off balance was definitely key to their agenda. Divide and conquer. Well, they had certainly succeeded in that. Tanner was leaving town, angrily vowing to come back if he could find a way to prove Buck was responsible for Ezra's death. Chris was headed to the saloon when she left town, apparently feeling the guilt of his actions. Clearly he wasn't going to be at his best anymore. She didn't know whether it was this self imposed quarantine or his own demons that had Josiah was sequestered inside that damn church of his, not leaving the building. JD continued to spend most of his time sulking, and none of it talking to Buck.

As long as the men were arguing amongst themselves there was less chance they would come together in any way that would interfere. McHenry was due any day now to complete his purchase of the ranch lands. And, thanks to his almost delusional superstitious nature, he was bringing the payment in cash. Enough cash to have Annabella and the others set for life.

Mrs. McHenry, who in her maiden days had been a good friend and frequent co-conspirator of Annabella's, had been left behind once her true nature had been discovered. Abandoned, she would have been penniless had she not had the foresight to ensure a significant amount of the McHenry family money had been syphoned into a different account. Seducing bank managers was second nature to her. Vengeance being fundamental to her basic character, she was determined to make sure her husband never had the chance to enjoy his remaining wealth.

That was when she approached her former accomplice with a proposition. Dispose of Walter, making sure of course there was opportunity for her to collect on the insurance, and Annabella was welcome to the money that he had taken with him. She even agreed to fund the venture and pay out the a third of said insurance. It was worth it to make sure he never came back to cause trouble.

The hitch in the plan had been the location of the ranch land. A few months earlier and it would have been a walk in the park for them, but now things had changed. The area was protected now, by of all things, honest men. Well, most of them were. Four Corners was not the easy target it should have been. Learning that Ezra Standish was there had given them the first foot in the door they needed. He had been well schooled over the years, and always kept dear Maude informed of his situation. Annabella quickly tracked down her former mentor and pumped her for information. "_Please Maude, I need to find a way to reconnect with Ezra. Life was so much more interesting, more lucrative, when we were together. And from what I understand now, he needs to be saved from the quagmire he has landed in._"

Somewhat anxious to see Ezra back using his God-given gifts and not languishing in some wretched one horse town Maude shared what she knew, after securing a small payment and promise of involvement in future operations. The bad news had been that involving Ezra in the plan was definitely too risky a move. His loyalty to anyone was questionable at best, but he did seem to have taken some bizarre interest in trying the straight and narrow path. There wasn't enough time for them to determine the veracity of the act, so they would have to remove him from play. Luring him out of town when the time came should be a simple process. No need to involve Maude any further, lest she start making more demands. A telegram from her would do the trick. Ezra was in that way, perfectly trained.

The information on the others that she had been able to get, sketchy as it was, provided the beginnings of a plan. There was always one in every group she could ply her wiles on. It wasn't hard to figure who it was here. The group leader was out of the question. His nature and history precluded a quick seduction. The youngest and oldest in the squad were eliminated, simply based on the extremes. And there wasn't a person alive who would believe a southern lady would be entranced by a black man. So, that left two. And when a man believed himself to be irresistible to women, he was easy prey.

Ensnaring Buck Wilmington was hardly the worst assignment she'd ever undertaken. Given some of the men she'd slept with for the benefit of a job, this was a very welcomed step up. And, as she expected, the task wasn't difficult. The hardest part had been not falling into bed with him. It might be difficult to explain her lack of purity, which was meant to be part of her appeal after all. This twist of events with Standish had at least removed that obstacle. She'd have to see if she could make time for a bit of fun before this all wrapped up.

The thought brought her back to the present, and the matter at hand.

"We should still be able to pull this off. We just have to be careful. No more meetings. Only communication by message until the time comes. Harlan, did you find some hired guns for us?"

"Men like that come cheap in Purgatory. Got three ready. Paid them some in advance. Promise of five times that will keep them around."

"Be sure to get that back when you kill them. No point in wasting cash." She strolled slowly back to her rented horse. She'd been away from town long enough and getting away at all had been a challenge. Buck's overprotectiveness was driving her to the edge. He had far too much time on his hands since being distanced from the others. The only friend he seemed to have left from the group was Nathan, and he'd been preoccupied by that sick farmer.

Mounting up, she swept a few stray blonde locks from her face. "Cyrus, you should get up to the ridge and keep an eye out, in case we don't get word of timing. Harlan can join you during the day. I'll let you know if there are any updates. Harlan, you need to come back to town as often as you can without anybody seeing you to check in. Watch for the sign in my window. There will be a scarf hanging there if I've left you a message."

"We know the routine. Done it often enough."

"Don't get short with me Cyrus. Now is not the time for that. We all know what happens if we start fighting amongst ourselves. If you don't, just look at what's going on in town."

"Long as there is money to be had I can follow the rules. Once this is done though, I think we might want to review this set up."

Harlan nodded his agreement. "When this bunch figures out what we've done, we're gonna be on every wanted list in the territory. And beyond. We figure going our separate ways might be the best plan."

She had been thinking the same thing herself, although with a twist she didn't imagine the others would be expecting. But a girl had to look after her own best interests, especially out here where things were so unpredictable.

"I can see the advantage to that. And there should be sufficient haul here to keep us all comfortable for some time to come. Particularly when we find a ourselves in safer locations." She pulled at the reins, turning the horse. "Keep an eye on things. This should finish up quickly now."

They watched her ride out, back to the comfortable surrounding of town. "She really think she's fooling us?" Cyrus asked, chuckling.

"Her type always does. Overconfidence. It'll get them every time."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	12. Chapter 12

If he didn't know better Chris would swear that time had stood still inside the church. When he walked in Josiah was still in his place next to Ezra, with Nathan sitting in a pew a few feet away. The only noticeable difference was the absence of Abram and Jacob. The plan to return them home in the early hours had gone off perfectly. Chris figured it was about time something went their way. He hoped the plans for the rest of the day would be equally successful.

As he moved closer he realized something else had changed overnight. While he wouldn't have imagined it was possible, Ezra looked even worse. His breathing was strained, and he was soaked in sweat. He barely moved at all, but the tension on his face showed that he was clearly in pain.

"I take it he hasn't woken up at all?"

Josiah's expression gave all the answer that was needed, but Nathan answered anyway. "Drifting in and out, but not waking up. Fever spiked up, and he's hurting. Been trying to get some herbs in him to fight the fever, but not having much luck with that."

Chris looked down at Ezra and his mind went back to the letter that had been left for him. If he'd read it sooner, or better yet let the man have is say before judging him, there was no real doubt in his mind this wouldn't have happened. Whatever the outcome was now, he didn't know if he was going to be able to completely forgive himself for that.

"I've already told Buck that McHenry's stage is due in this afternoon." Josiah nodded, but didn't stop his efforts to cool Ezra down.

"Vin's waiting outside of town where we agreed." Still no movement.

"Josiah…"

"Yes, I know. It's time. I know it was my plan, but I can't say as I want to leave him on his own right now."

Nathan leaned forward. "Not on his own Josiah. I'm not going anywhere."

Stress and fatigue lowered his ability to curb his frustration. "Pretty sure he'd be better of with someone who actually gave a damn and had a bit of compassion for him."

"That's not fair Josiah."

"No Chris, it's alright. I get it." Nathan waited a moment for the silence to become oppressive enough for Josiah to look up. "I ain't denying that I never bothered to hide the way I felt about how Ezra lived his life, and I'm not about to pretend that we were good friends, or even that we ever might be. But I will admit I was wrong to judge him without hearing his side. I hope I get the chance to tell him that."

Josiah reached up and rubbed his hands over his face in a futile effort to rouse himself from his mood. "I know you'll take care of him." He leaned closer to Ezra. "I've got to go for a bit Ezra, but you best still be here when I get back. You don't want me being mad at you."

His effort to stand was slowed by combination of reluctance and aching muscles. "OK Chris. Let's go get these bastards."

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Buck was waiting impatiently at the breakfast table for Clarice. He tapped a spoon rhythmically on against his coffee cup, oblivious to the irritation it was causing for the other patrons.

She was late. Normally, he found her little quirks like that one to be appealing, but this morning it was frustrating. He wanted to share the news with her. Let her know that they would be able to leave here tomorrow to start things over. He hadn't expected he'd be leaving Four Corners, let alone leaving under these circumstances.

Chris had been brusque with him this morning. None of the camaraderie they had shared in the past was in any way evident as he was briefed on the plans for the day. The level of tension between the two of them was as high as it had ever been, and given some of the things they'd been through, that was a pretty significant level. He regretted that things were ending like this, but damn it, it wasn't his fault.

None of this was his fault. Try as he might, he couldn't fathom why the others weren't happy for him. Hell, he'd been thrilled when Chris had found Sarah. Love did good things to a man, and it had mellowed Chris more than he'd have imagined possible for his friend. The fact that it turned out so tragically just made it all the more poignant in his mind.

Before his thoughts became too melancholy, they were interrupted by Clarice's arrival. He could feel most of his tension fade away the moment she joined him.

"Good morning darling. I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but it does take some time for a lady to make herself look presentable."

"Don't believe that. You're just as pretty as a speckled pup."

She stared at him for a few seconds before deciding that was intended as a compliment, so smiled warmly as she took her seat.

"I have good news. We can leave tomorrow. That job Larabee wants me for will be done this afternoon, and I'll be back in time for dinner with you. Then tomorrow we can get the stage."

Thank God! She was almost done with this town, and the charade. It would be wonderful to getting back to being herself and give up this prissy sham. This whole experience hadn't been nearly as much fun as she'd hoped. She was shocked to discover that Buck was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of her alleged purity, and after the disclosure of the supposed attack he was even more solicitous in her presence. Given what she'd heard of his rumoured prowess, she had been looking forward to at least one night with him, but that never played out.

She thought last night might have done the trick. He was so relieved to have her return safely after her ride that she was certain she could maneuver him into her chamber, and she was sure she was getting close to her goal. Then Larabee hunted him down to say they needed to talk in the morning and the spell was broken.

"Really? You're certain it will happen today?"

"Yup. That's what he wanted to talk about. We ride out after lunch and meet this McHenry fellow at the pass around 2. Couple of hours ride to get him to the bank in Eagle Bend and it's done."

"The pass?" Details mattered in this.

"Kinstone Pass. Bit better than an hour's ride east of here. We meet him on this end of the gully, then a few hours later it will all be over."

Yes, it will. How magnificent.

"That is wonderful." She put her napkin back on the table, standing quickly. "I must start to get things ready. I can start packing and should send some letters and telegrams. Oh Buck, I can't believe this is really happening!"

He was thrilled she was so excited. "Slow down there. No need to rush like that. Have your breakfast and we'll take care of the rest later."

"No, the eastern stage is due through soon, and I want to make sure my letters to family get posted. Oh Buck, I can't wait to tell them. We can work out our plans at dinner tonight!" She bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, giggling as she did. "So wonderful!"

Watching her leave, he smiled. She was right. This was what they wanted. Something he never imagined would happen to him. Maybe that was why there was a niggling sense of unease that had been taunting him for the last 24 hours. Small enough that he could ignore it most of the time, but there, nevertheless. He was sure it was simply because things were happening so fast. Whatever the reason he wasn't about to let it ruin his day, or his life.

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Chris was mounted up and ready to go by the time Buck got to the stables after lunch.

"Just take me a couple minutes to get ready. Just going to be the two of us?"

Chris nodded. "Josiah's still feeling poorly. Nathan needs to stay to keep his eye on his patients, and JD will stay in town to keep watch. This shouldn't be anything to worry about. Not like anybody knows McHenry is coming or carrying cash."

"Not unless he was stupid enough to tell folks. That's the kind of news you're best to keep to yourself."

"Guess so. I'm going to make sure JD is set. Meet you in a couple minutes."

He'd come to a decision mid-morning, and it was time to implement it. He rode over to the jail, where JD sat forlornly on the wooden chair out front. The kid had been feeling lower than rock bottom, and Chris was beginning to worry what might come of it.

Before Chris could speak, the young man was up out of his seat and voicing the source of his latest unhappiness. "Don't see why I get stuck here in town."

"Someone needs to stay, and besides, I didn't think you wanted to ride with Buck right now."

That much was true. JD had barely been on speaking terms with his former best friend after Ezra left, and the suspicions over the gambler's death had finished driving the wedge between them.

Not getting an answer, he went back to the reason he had come over. "JD, I need you to do something for me after we leave."

Trying to muster a small degree of enthusiasm and professionalism, and almost succeeding, JD looked up at him. "Sure Chris. Whatever you need."

"Need you to go check in on Nathan. See if he needs anything. I already told him you'd be coming by to lend a hand."

"Shouldn't that be up to him? I mean, if folks are sick…"

"This one is my call. Just do what I say JD. Trust me."

Trust may have been a commodity in short supply lately, but he certainly wasn't going to defy Chris. "Sure. I'll head over once you guys leave."

That moment came almost immediately as Buck rode out of the livery. He started toward Chris until he realized who else was in the conversation, and then steered away and started slowly out of town. Shaking his head sadly, Chris followed wondering what was going to happen when the truth came out.

JD watched them leave, torn between wanting to be with them and being glad avoid any contact with Buck. He still hadn't been able to sort out how he felt about everything that had happened in the past few months versus the last few days. It made his head spin to think about how much had changed and gone wrong so quickly.

Starting to return to his chair to watch the world go by he remembered the job Chris had left him with. Reluctantly, he switched direction and walked toward the church. Surely Chris wouldn't be sending him there if there was a chance he'd get sick. They were shorthanded enough as it was, without cutting their numbers down again. With that moderate boost to his confidence, he knocked on the door as warning, then cracked it open.

"Nathan – it's JD. Chris sent me over. Said I was supposed to ask if you needed anything." From where he stood at the door, he could see Nathan leaning over a patient, but they were too far, and too dark inside for him to be sure who it was.

"You alone?"

"Of course."

"OK JD. Come on in."

Hesitantly, JD took a couple of steps forward. "Are you sure? I mean, it wouldn't be good for me to get sick now with everybody out of town."

"Don't worry. I guarantee this isn't something you can catch."

Puzzled, yet reassured knowing Nathan wouldn't lie about something like that, JD came closer. "Sure hope you're right. I really hate being – what the hell?"

He froze when he saw the patient. "But – Vin said – I mean how – what the hell? Vin said he was dead!"

"Damn close to being right about that."

"Nathan, what the hell is going on?"

"Better sit down JD. It's a bit complicated."

Despite the suggestion, JD didn't move. He was too focused on Ezra. "Is he – will he be ok?" He couldn't imagine there would be a positive response to that.

"I'm beginning to think just maybe there's a chance he will be. It's still bad, but just the fact he's hanging on like this is encouraging. I think the fever is down a bit from where he was this morning, but there's an awful lot of hurt that needs to heal up."

Not entirely sure he wanted an answer, JD summoned the nerve to ask anyway. "He been able to say who did this to him?"

"No, but don't worry JD. We know it wasn't Buck." The young man a but drooped with relief. "Hopefully in a couple of hours the folks responsible are going to be in our jailhouse. Come on – sit down and I'll fill you in."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The silence was driving Buck crazy. Not that Chris was exactly the most talkative travelling companion at the best of times, but the chill that was between them made the taciturn nature so much more evident. If a dozen words had been spoken over the last hour, that was it. They were nearing the west end of the pass when he simply couldn't take it anymore.

"So is this how it's all gonna end? Everything we went through together? The war? Sarah and Adam? All that history just gone?"

"You're the one leaving, not me."

"Ain't the leaving I'm talking about, and you know it."

"What do you want me to say Buck? You've known this woman for two weeks and because of her you've blown this team apart."

Buck reined Lady to a stop. "I've blown it apart? You don't think maybe what Standish did was to blame? Or maybe that Vin and Josiah – hell, even JD, took his side on that?"

"Accused of doing. Her word only. And obviously his denial wasn't enough for you."

Buck snorted. "Would a man's denial be enough for you?"

Now it was Chris's turn to stop riding. He looked back and locked eyes with his long-time friend. "It was enough for me when you denied killing Ezra. You didn't take to kindly to others accusing you because Vin said you did it, did you?"

The comparison hadn't even crossed his mind. "Shit Chris. Them's two totally different things."

"Are they? Accused with no proof, and no one willing to hear you out. How is that different?"

"Cause you know me. Know you can trust me. Last time you trusted Standish we all damn near got killed."

"He'd proven himself since then. May not have been a saint, but all we have is her word that he was that much of a sinner." He was about to spur Pony forward when they heard shots in the distance.

"Son of a bitch – someone's after the stage!"

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	13. Chapter 13

"How much longer do you figure we gotta wait 'til we can do this?" Patience had never been one of Cyrus's strong suits. Besides beating on people, few things were.

"Don't know." Harlan took a glance at his new pocket watch. "Annabella's note said Larabee and Wilmington were due around 2, so the stage should be here any time now." He pulled out the note he'd recovered that morning from their contact drop, just to be sure, even though he'd already looked at it countless times. _Law at west end of Kinstone Pass at 2. Be ready by noon to take care of things at the east, just to be sure_. _Meet as planned tonight. _He chortled softly. "She's gonna be waiting one hell of a long time for us to show up."

"Yeah. I can't believe she figured that on a score like this one we'd play it straight. Been waiting too long for this kind of money. You figure she'll come looking for us?"

Laughing, Harlan shook his head. "Probably be too busy trying to run from that boyfriend of hers when they figure all this out."

While Harlan focused his scope on the horizon, Cyrus shifted restlessly in his saddle. "Wish we'd had time to send for them fellas you hired from Purgatory. More hands would be better for this."

"Well there wasn't enough notice. We'll be fine. Taking down a spoiled rich dude and some old driver will be a piece of cake."

"Yeah, but there's a hired gun with them. Shouldn't we at least take him out first?"

"I told you Cyrus, we don't kill any of them until we're sure the money is there. If it turns out McHenry has wired it ahead or something instead of carrying it with him we're gonna need him alive to get it. It will be a hell of a lot harder to get him to go along if he figures we'll kill him anyway. This way, he might have some hope."

Cyrus wasn't convinced, but knew there was no point in arguing. He dismounted again and began pacing, wondering how much longer this would be. It was just a short wait before Harlan ordered him to mount up. The stage was coming and it was time for the two men to move into position.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The stage slowed slightly, preparing to take the curve that would lead it into the rocky pass. If there was going to be trouble, this was the most likely spot. With that in mind, they were all on alert, doing their best not to be obvious about it. The driver was drooped down in his seat, showing only as much energy as it took to guide the team. Likewise, the escort rider seemed more asleep than awake, swaying slightly in the saddle. As for the passenger, he too looked to be asleep, hat tilted down over his face. Appearances to the contrary, not one of them was caught of guard when two masked riders appeared from behind the rocks.

"OK folks, everybody stay nice and calm any you all get to ride on out of here in just a few minutes."

"I don't want no trouble mister." The driver didn't look up as he spoke, his voice trembling faintly. "I ain't gonna be no hero."

"Smart man. You armed?"

"No, they don't let me carry a gun."

The bigger of the two men rode closer. "Can see why. You ain't nothing but a useless, sniveling coward, are you?"

"No sir, I ain't."

Scoffing, he raised his hand as if to hit him, and watched the driver pull back. A soft utterance he couldn't make out accompanied the ducking action.

The second rider circled the stage, gun aimed directly at the hired rider. "What about you? You gonna play hero?"

There was a firm shake of the head. "Not my money in there."

"Good." He waved at him to move back. Without lowering his gun he pulled a second weapon to aim it at the interior of the stage as he turned to face the passenger.

Instead of seeing a cowering occupant, he found himself staring down the barrel of a Colt 45. "I think, friend, you and your companion will want to be dropping your weapon." Judge Oren Travis grinned at him from behind the gun.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harlan saw the Josiah pull his own revolver from under his sarape. The outlaw had just begun to squeeze the trigger when a single shot hit him between the eyes. Reflexes had him fire his shot, which barely skimmed Josiah's arm.

Cyrus turned his head in time to see his companion fall, and instinctively fired his own weapon. Again, the best he managed was a grazing shot that caught Vin in the leg before falling to his death, felled by two shots to the chest.

All three men scanned the horizon for others, not lowering their weapons.

"Honestly, gentlemen, while I know I shouldn't take any pleasure in this, I have to concede it was a most rewarding feeling." Travis tilted his head back on his head as the climbed out of the stage once they were certain the risk was done.

"Thought you were going to give it away for a minute there, Vin. What took you by surprise?"

Vin had already wrapped a bandana around his leg to staunch the weak flow of blood. He didn't answer as he lowered himself from his perch and stepped toward the dead man. Toeing him to roll him over, he looked down with disgust, his eyes focused on the man's hand. He bent down and pulled at a ring that sat two thirds of the way onto the last finger. He tugged several times to try to get it off, but it was wedged tight. Just about to reach for his knife, he gave one more pull and felt it move. A few twists later and he'd succeeded. He held it up for Josiah to see.

The big man recognized it instantly. "Ezra's." He dismounted as he spoke. "Bastard." He knelt on one knee next to his victim and began checking pockets for ID.

All three men grabbed at their guns at the sound of approaching riders but relaxed as they came into view.

"Damn." Buck spoke as he approached. "We missed all the fun."

Chris slid off Pony and strode quickly to where Josiah was once again kneeling, removing his bandana as he did and wrapping it around his friend's arm. "You three alright?"

"Scratches. Nothing that will distract Nathan when we get back."

Nodding, Chris pointed at the body at his feet. "Find anything?"

Josiah had already found a note in the pocket and had just wrapped his hand around something hard. He knew what it was before he pulled it free. Silently, he held up Ezra's pocket watch.

"These were the guys? Why the hell would they attack Standish?" Buck moved closer, looking confused. He turned to face Vin. "I told you I didn't beat him –". He got no further before Vin lunged at him, forcing him back against the wheel of the stage, holding his forearm against Buck's neck.

"You might as well have. These two bastards were working with your lady friend. She set him up sure as we're standing here."

Buck shoved back, but didn't have the leverage from the position he was in. None of the others made a move to come to his aid. "You're loco."

"I followed her yesterday. Rode out to meet with them. She's part of this, just like he tried to warn you."

The two men stared each other down, Buck slowly losing his fighting stance. "You followed her? Why?" He turned to look a Chris. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Chris walked over next to them. "Wish he was wrong Buck, for your sake, but he isn't." He held up the note Josiah had found. "Recognize the writing?"

Staring at it Buck tried to ignore the growing sense of dread. Yes, he'd seen the writing. It was on the envelopes that Clarice had asked him to deliver to the stage that morning. There had to be an explanation. He went silent, barely breathing as images and words from the last few days crashed through his mind. He slumped as realization struck with full force. Chris tapped Vin's arm, signalling him to let go. After a few seconds of hesitation, and with a slight shove, Vin acquiesced.

"She played me?" Buck muttered softly. He still couldn't quite accept what his gut was telling him was true.

"She played all of us. Three weeks in town and not one of us had a hint of suspicion about her." Chris didn't think the words would be of any comfort to his friend as the reality continued to sink in.

Buck said nothing, leaning back against the wheel. How could he have been so blind? So unbelievably stupid. He'd played into her hand every step of the way like some lovesick pup. Hell, that's exactly what he'd been. JD showed more sense than he'd had. The things he'd said to the team, the way he'd fed her information. Fool didn't begin to come close to being an apt description. If he'd just thought for a minute to listen to Ezra…

He gasped, thunderstruck by the memory. He'd almost shot the man, based solely on her word. Just like she wanted him to do. He damn near killed him like a dog in the street.

No. He did kill him. Maybe not with his hands, but with his acts. Drove him out of town, into the hands of these bastards. He looked at the size of the man on the ground in front of him. There were bruises on his hands. The kind you get when you've beaten a man senseless. Proof that he had been the one to do that - with Buck's help. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking on the kind of hell Ezra must have gone through in his final moments.

He slumped to the ground. "You were right Vin. I killed him."

Chris went to speak, but Vin stopped him, pulling him aside and speaking in a low voice. "Won't do him harm to dwell on that for the ride home before we set him straight."

"Not so sure about that. There's been enough lying and conning going on, don't you think."

Vin thought on how badly Ezra'd been hurt. "No. I don't."

Buck shook his head, seeming to come to his senses suddenly and jumped up, making the move back to his horse. "We have to get back to town. Chris, you have to let me be the one to arrest her. I'll leave town after that. Hell, I'll turn myself in as an accomplice if that's what you want, but I have to do this first."

"On what charge?" Travis spoke for the first time since this started. He'd been filled in on all the details well in advance and was now telling Buck the same thing he'd told the others. "There isn't enough evidence to charge her. Meeting two men outside of town isn't a crime. Even if we can prove the note was hers, and she will swear it isn't, it doesn't prove anything. Lying to you – to everyone – isn't enough. I don't know a court that would convict her on this."

"So she just gets away?"

Not on my watch, Chris thought. "No. We keep the bodies hidden when we go back to town. You'll tell her the stage never showed up." Chris looked at Buck and the seething anger so close to the surface and rethought the plan. There was no way the man was going to keep himself under control if he had to face her. "One second thought, I'll tell her. Let her think you went after them while I came back for reinforcements."

"I can do it Chris."

Without dignifying that, he continued. "You can hide out at the church. Need to take these two to Nathan to get their wounds checked."

"Damnit Chris, I ain't gonna fall under that spell again. I can do this!"

"You can do what I damn well tell you to do. Isn't this bad enough without you losing your temper and likely killing her? We're gonna follow her out to where the meet is supposed to be. That should tie her into it, won't it Judge?"

"No. Without them there, there's no reason she can't go riding anywhere she wants. And from what I know, she isn't going to fall for any kind of con we try to pull. Best we can do at this point it to notify every lawman we can to be on the watch for her. Keep track of what she'd doing and watch for some kind of slip. Maybe we'll figure out more later, but for now, I don't see another option."

Slowly, Chris walked over to Buck, picking up the hat Vin had knocked off him in their skirmish. "Mount up. Let's just go home."

Swinging himself into the saddle, Buck didn't look up. "Don't see that I have one." He started back to Four Corners, ahead of the others. None of them rode to catch him.

Chris looked over his companions. "You two ok to ride?"

Vin offered a faint grin as he climbed back into the drivers seat. "Takes more than this to slow me down."

"Likewise." Josiah had already mounted up, and Travis had settled onto one of the outlaws horses.

"OK, once I get the bodies into the stage you guys take it to my cabin. Your horses are there for you. Left one for you too Judge, so you don't have ride that one into town, just in case she recognizes it."

Travis rode forward to Chris. "You should catch up to Buck. He's liable to get to town and say or do something that everyone will end up regretting. If he meets up with this Clarice-"

"Annabella" Vin corrected.

"Whoever – he's gonna end up letting her know what happened whether he means to or not. He's too riled. We need to keep her in the dark if there is even a chance she might slip up."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

Chris slammed the door of the stage after dumping the smaller man inside on top of his cohort, brushing his hands off. He would have preferred to leave them out here for the scavengers, just as they had done to Ezra. It was all that they deserved.

"OK, you guys get back to town as soon as you can. But come in quietly. Less fuss about this until we know what she's doing next, the better. I'm gonna catch up to Buck."

He started to ride out until Vin's call stopped him. "Chris. Tell him about Ezra. He's hurting enough."

A single head nod answered, but Chris was smiling to himself as he rode off. Maybe, just maybe, they'd manage to get through this after all.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	14. Chapter 14

It didn't take too long to catch up to Buck, and Chris easily could have closed the gap, but decided to stay back a bit. Close enough, he hoped, to step in if he figured his friend needed it, but far enough to give him the privacy to deal with all of this.

As much as part of him wanted to be mad at Buck over everything that had happened, he understood what had pushed him to act the way he did. The need to protect the people you love or to seek vengeance on those who harm them was a motivation Chris understood all too well. Truth of the matter was he knew beyond a doubt if this had been Sarah involved he would have acted the same way. Not even sure he would have had the restraint Buck showed.

And he knew it wasn't right to put all of the blame at the man's feet. Ignoring for the moment the fact the people in love could be frighteningly stupid a times, Buck had been right about one thing. This bitch had played him – had played them all – brilliantly. Not one member of the team had been remotely suspicious of her. Even JD, while not liking the fact she was dominating Buck's time, didn't suspect anything was off kilter about her. Granted, he'd been willing to accept Ezra's denunciation of her that faster than any of them, but Chris was sure the kid would acknowledge his motivations were somewhat on the selfish side.

And using Mary to spread her lies had been nothing shy of inspired. The newswoman had a solid reputation in the community and people accepted her reports as fact, even if they didn't always agree with her opinions. He knew she was going to deeply regret her role in all of this when the truth came out.

They all had a lot to regret. He never could have imagined the day that essentially the entire town owed Ezra Standish, of all people, an apology. He didn't imagine most of them would see it that way and he also knew Ezra wouldn't expect them to. After all, he had said it himself - anyone who led the kind of life he had shouldn't be surprised when their honesty was questioned. The townspeople would say he deserved to be mistrusted and most would probably continue to do so. Chris wished he could say he wasn't one of them, but he knew better. Some doubt was going to remain, at least on certain points. He knew his own nature, and he had a pretty good idea of Ezra's. Some things just don't change, leastwise not overnight. One thing would be different though. Next time, he'd listen to the man. Assuming, he reluctantly thought, there is a chance for a next time.

As they neared town, Chris spurred Pony ahead. The last thing he wanted was Buck taking matters into his own hands.

Buck glanced up as Chris came along side. "Don't worry Cowboy. I'm gonna play by the rules here – for now."

"You don't have all of the facts. I think there are a few more things you need to know."

"Know what's important. I was a damned fool and it cost a man his life. A man I should have been treating like a friend. Nothing you can say is gonna change any of that."

"What else have you been thinking about?"

Buck shrugged. "Everything, and nothing. I should have seen in Chris. Looking back it seems so clear. She was controlling everything I did, and I went along like some kind of damned puppet."

"Yup. She's good. No question about it. Ezra said she was one of the best he'd ever seen. Of course, having him for a teacher probably helped in that."

Reining Lady to a stop, Buck stared at him. "When did he tell you that?"

"Left a letter. Telling me all the stuff he tried to say but we – I – wouldn't listen to."

"That what turned you around on this?"

"Well, it got me to thinking. Too late though. This isn't all on you Buck. Every one of us takes on some of it to some degree."

"What else did he say?"

Chris hesitated, not sure that this was the time. On the other hand, was there a better one coming? He reached into his jacket pocket. He'd kept the letter close from the moment he read it, not wanting anyone else to see it until matters got settled. With only a slight hesitation, he handed it over.

_Mr. Larabee: _

_I realize even as I take pen, or rather pencil, in hand, there is a senselessness of my effort. The probability of your taking the time to even scan this missive, let alone review it with anything beyond a skeptic's eye, is effectively non-existent. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to make the effort, for reasons that are beyond my comprehension. _

_There is no purpose in my wasting a great deal of time once again proclaiming my innocence in this matter. You have no reason to believe me, although I have made what I considered to be a valiant effort in recent months to establish a modicum of credibility in your eyes. It is now clearly evident that my attempt has failed. Indeed, failed miserably. _

_What I am about to tell you will indubitably be dismissed, but in all good conscience (yes, I do have one) I feel I must share my information and expertise. _

_To reiterate what I sought to inform you of when all of this commenced, the woman you know as Clarice Foster is in fact Annabella Morrison. At least, that is the identity I have always known her by. I will spare you the more lurid and colourful details of our time together, knowing as I do how you would react to our escapades. She is beyond question the second best confidence woman in this country today. I take a somewhat perverse pride in knowing I played a role in that training, assisted ably by my dear mother, who retains the title of queen in that category. _

_Without more time to review the situation in our – I'm sorry – __your__ town, I cannot begin to surmise what she is doing so far from traditional sources of wealth. Suffice it to say there is, or soon will be, an event with an abundant amount of cash at hand to make it worth her while to travel to what she would see as a remote and desolate locale._

_While you have all at various times lamented my elaborate manner of speaking, in this circumstance I concede that words fail me. Despite possessing an extensive vocabulary I cannot find any utterance that would allow me to convince you that what I am writing here is the truth. The best I can offer is to outline the modus operandi for this charming charlatan, in the hopes that it will shine some light on her true nature. _

_Her arrival, an event deliberately timed to occur during my arranged absence, would have been without fanfare. But within moments of it happening, she would have found a way to stumble, possibly literally, into the path of our resident Romeo. She would have portrayed herself as strong willed, yet delicate enough to need to lean on her hero. She has told him little of her past, saying it is far too painful to discuss. _

_She has made every effort to keep him away from the rest of you without removing him entirely from your presence. Conversations held away from your ears would see her planting the idea in his mind that she is the one who truly understands him and may be suggesting that being in a town like Four Corners is holding him back. I would imagine she has indicated that, sadly, she can stay only a short time before needing to move on, thus intensifying the relationship to make the most of what little time together they have and keeping him focused on her. Given the deplorably less than generous state of Mr. Wilmington's finances, I feel it is safe to assume she has an ulterior motive in selecting him to be her knight in shining armour. The most logical conclusion is that she anticipates he will be a source of information needed to achieve her final goal. _

_I might note at this juncture that there is an excellent chance she will be associating with at least one other individual in this operation. You would be wise to watch for strangers in the community or environs._

_One of the factors I no longer feel confident in predicting is how she will end this. The Annabella I knew and for a time was quite fond of would never have considered hurting a mark. Her training, at the hands of an expert, taught her that a job properly executed would have no need for violence. Most victims were too smitten or too embarrassed, or both, to lodge a complaint. It is always of paramount importance to avoid doing anything that would attract undue attention from the enforcers of law and public order. _

_Sadly, presuming the stories I have heard in recent times have any truth, this is no longer her methodology. She has been widowed on at least one occasion, and there are tales of other – I shall call them misdeeds. Her accusations against me, knowing how Mr. Wilmington and others, like yourself, would react, serve only to reinforce the notion that she cares not what harm befalls those who interfere with her agenda. _

_The pressing question in this would be is Mr. Wilmington in danger from this vixen? Emotionally perhaps, but I doubt there is a physical risk. In truth, I feel certain in my expectation that I am at far greater risk of personal injury than is our Lothario. She has nothing to gain by harming him. On the other hand, she likely imagines she has little to lose. She is blissfully unaware of the fury of hell she would be unleashing upon herself were she to wound, or worse, such a valued member of your team, not to mention a friend. I would not want to be in her place when you do come to recognize her iniquitous nature. _

_My time is running short as I am expected to be on my way out of town in mere moments from now. I hope, but do not anticipate, that you will heed my warnings. This 'Clarice' of Mr. Wilmington's will wreak havoc on this town and those in it in some way, of that I am certain. You will not believe me when I say this, but I do regret the role I played in that. _

_I am presumptuous enough to ask one thing of you when this is over, and my comparative innocence has been proven. Please do all that is within your ability to attempt to convince Mr. Wilmington that I harbour no animosity toward him for his actions, and indeed admire his strength of character. Setting aside the simple truth that he was sorely manipulated by an expert it need be said that he was acting in an heroic manner in coming to her defence, futile though the action was. He is a reincarnated personification of the age of chivalry wherein the protection of a ladies honour was paramount. The pity is, she is no lady._

_In a manner of speaking, I have brought this upon myself, a sadly familiar circumstance in my life. Mr. Sanchez would rightly affirm that one does reap what one sows, and I assuredly planted the seeds that have led to this moment. Consequently, as with Mr. Wilmington, you may assure yourself and the others that your actions and reactions were neither surprising nor offensive to me. I will concede however, that they were to some extent disappointing. _

_For what it is worth, probably not a sum worth mentioning, I do wish you all good fortune both in the immediate and more distant future. I find myself in the scandalous (by my standards) position of realizing I will miss this town, and the experiences we shared. _

_Sincerely, your somewhat less than humble servant, _

_Ezra P. Standish. _

His hand was shaking by the time he got to the end. "God, you'd think he was there watching. He got it all right."

"Understandably."

It still didn't make sense to Buck. "He admires me? What I said to him, what I threatened, and he writes that he admires me?"

"He admires integrity. I think he figures it's something he'll never have, so he can appreciate it others. Not sure that he's as right about that as he thinks he is."

Buck shook his head, staring at the letter. "Doubt if he'd have said any of this if he'd known how it was going to turn out. Sure as shit would have some of that animosity of his over the fact I got him killed."

The time had come. "No, you didn't"

Handing the letter back, Buck picked up the reins. "You ain't gonna convince me of that one Chris, so don't even bother."

"You can blame yourself all you want Buck, but you didn't get him killed. Ezra ain't dead."

Buck stared in disbelief. "What?"

"He was beat halfway there and left out to finish the job. Josiah brought him into the church. That's what Nathan's been doing – tending to him."

Still trying to absorb the shock, Buck was more that confused. "Why?"

Figuring he was asking about the deception and not the beating, Chris gave him the best answer he could. "We didn't know how anybody would react, and he wasn't strong enough to survive if someone wanted to finish the job."

"You figure she woulda tried to kill him?" The idea that she was associated with the men who had attacked Ezra was hard enough to process. That she would take the job into her own hands was all but impossible to accept, but he felt in his gut there was no other possibility. He knew the answer even as he asked, and it was making him sick.

"Not a chance I was going to take."

"So all of it was an act? Vin never thought I did it? None of you did?"

The moment of hesitation gave him his answer. "You all thought I might have."

"Be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind. But no, not a one of us really believed it. It did give us the excuse we needed for Vin to get out of town to do what needed to be done."

"Not to mention a reason for me to spend more time with her." He hadn't said her name since everything had begun to unravel. He took a deep breath to settle his growing anger. "Take it he **was** hurt though? How bad?"

"Can't recall seeing anyone beat on like that. Nathan's had a tough fight to keep him with us."

"But he's gonna be ok?" It was the first hint of optimism Buck had shown.

Chris shrugged, wishing for so many reasons he could give a positive answer to that. "Maybe. He had another rough night, but Nathan figures the fact he's still hanging on is a good sign." The tone was less than convincing, and he watched Buck's face fall even further. It had been almost cruel to give him a sense of hope that at least one aspect of this disaster wasn't as bad as he thought, only to take that away again.

"Look, Buck. I'm sorry. We used you just as much as she did."

"Not the same, and for completely different reasons. I get it Chris. That ain't what has me riled. Besides, you gotta admit I had it coming."

"No one has something like this coming to them. You didn't deserve it anymore than Ezra deserved our judgement of him, let alone the beating. Fact was, I didn't know another way to make this work. Was hoping to take at least one of them alive to get the whole story, but…"

"She'd have denied whatever they said, and there wouldn't be much in the way for proof. As long as she pays, nothing else matters." He started riding toward town again with a determined look on his face, and nothing more was said.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	15. Chapter 15

"Where do you think you're going?"

Chris called out, but Buck didn't answer. Instead, he rode past the church and to the far end dismounting in front of the hotel.

"Damn it Buck! Hold up." Chris charged ahead and caught him as he reached the door, grabbing his arm and spinning him back. "What happened to playing by the rules?"

"Just gonna talk to her is all."

The look Chris gave him spoke more than the fanciest words Ezra ever uttered could have come close to. The two men stared each other down, not moving. People passing read the mood easily and quickly sidestepped to the far-side of street, hoping to avoid the fallout from whatever was about to happen. It was a long minute until Buck sighed, shoulders slumping.

"Damn it Chris. I have to do something."

"Well this ain't it. Not now anyway. We watch her and figure our plan as we go."

"She's gonna want to know how the job went. You know she'll be suspicious if we don't say something?"

Guiding Buck away from the door, Chris answered quietly. "I had planned on doing our best to lay low and avoid running into her, but that idea's kind of done with now." He paused, considering their options. "For now, let's just get out of the street and go talk this through with the others. They should be back soon. Our best bet it to talk to Travis about what we can do."

Reluctantly admitting Chris was right, Buck started toward his horse but was stopped when the hotel door opened. He turned at the noise, figuring with the way his luck was working, she would be standing there. Instead, Carl Fredricks, the manager, was approaching.

"Mr. Wilmington, I was hoping you were going to come in. I have a note here for you from Miss Foster." He handed it over, looking expectantly at the man and not making a move to leave. Buck imagined that only the fact the envelope was sealed had kept it private up to now, and clearly Fredricks wanted to change that. A solid glare from the two lawmen served to dissuade him of the desire and he scurried back to the comparative safety of the front desk.

He turned the note over in his hands several times, thumbing at the seal but not forcing it. Chris waited patiently for the inevitable surrender to curiosity. Buck finally ripped it open and read the note. "Son of a –". He began to crumple it, but Chris intervened, gently taking it from him.

_Sorry darling. In another time and place, we could have had so much fun together, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be._ There was no signature – it wasn't needed.

Leaving Buck for a moment, Chris stepped inside and went over to the desk. "When did she leave this?"

Fredricks thought back. "Shortly after lunch. She said she felt like going for a ride and was headed to the livery so asked me to please deliver the note should Mr. Wilmington come looking for her. Given the time he's been spending with her, that was only a matter of time." His smile bordered on a smirk and he had a manner that implied there was more to his words than he was letting on.

Ignoring the inference, Chris continued. "She have anything with her when she left? A bag or anything?"

"Not that I noticed."

"Give me the key to her room."

Confronting that man when he was using that tone was not a wise move, but to maintain his managerial form, Fredrick's put forth a token effort. "The hotel is not in the habit of allowing just anyone to enter a guest's room."

"I'm not just anyone – I'm the law here, and I am telling you to give me the key. Now."

It was quickly handed over. The front door opened as Chris reached the stairs, and Buck joined him wordlessly.

Curtains wafted gently into the room as they entered. At first glance everything looked normal, until they noticed there was nothing on the nightstand or dresser except for another envelope, this one addressed to the hotel. Buck tore it open and found a few bills inside. A quick examination showed the closet and drawers were empty as well.

"She's run. We missed her. Can't even go after her for skipping out on her bill."

Chris agreed, looking out the window to the ground one story below. "Sounds like it. There's an impression on the ground. Guessing she tossed her bag out there and picked it up on her way out. Even if we had a reason track her, she's got a few hours head start on us. I doubt she planned on meeting up with her pals at the spot they'd been camping. They'd be moving on."

"Probably paid in advance for renting a horse as well. She's smart."

"With Ezra for a teacher, she would be."

Hearing the name seemed to knock the wind out of Buck again. "Chris, can I see him? See how he's doing?"

In all the years he'd known Buck, and with everything they'd been through together, he couldn't remember a single time he'd heard the enthusiastic man sounding so reserved and hesitant.

"Don't see why not. Go ahead over to the church. I'm gonna talk to JD, then I best update Mary on what's happened and let her know Travis is coming in."

Buck nodded slightly then with head bowed and shoulders drooping, he left the room. Once outside he stopped, gazing to the far end of the town where the church seemed to be a million miles away. Stalling, he went to his horse, grabbing the reins and walking her to the livery, still keeping his attention on the church. He was so focused he didn't even notice JD at waiting at the stable doors.

"I'll take care of Lady for you. You go ahead to see him." Buck almost lost what little control he had of his emotions when he saw the supportive smile on JD's face. "Saw you two riding in, so I figured you'd be heading here sooner or later."

"Yeah, guess so. Look, Kid…" he stopped, not having a clue how to say what he wanted to. Needed to.

"Go see him. We can talk later on tonight when you buy me a beer – or two." JD took the reins and left Buck standing to stare after him, marvelling the at the young man's eternal optimism. Knowing he had no excuse to put it off, he took the final steps he needed and stopped at the church door. With a silent prayer, he opened in and walked in.

Light was streaming through the few narrow windows sending streaks of brilliance cutting into the unlit room. One beam cut across the front, where he could see a makeshift bed positioned near the alter, angled in such a way he couldn't make out much beyond the silhouette of the perfectly still form stretched out there.

Buck wanted to move forward, but suddenly felt as if his feet had been nailed to the floor. He stood, staring ahead trying to absorb what he was seeing.

"He's doing better."

Nathan's voice came out of the darkened corner several feet from where Ezra lay. "Fever seems to be down a bit, and his breathing is a lot easier than it was this morning. Not awake yet, but definitely doing better."

"They're dead. Bastards that did this to him are dead." Well, the ones directly responsible at least. He'd have to work on finding a way to make the third party pay for her involvement.

"Figured as much when JD said you two road into town alone. The others ok?"

"Vin and Josiah each need a few stitches, but nothing serious. They'll be here in a while."

Of course. Why should they come back from a job without needing a few stitches? That might set some kind of precedent.

"You can come closer Buck. You won't bother him."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that." Nevertheless, he forced himself to approach to the point he could finally make out details. He wished he hadn't. "This is what you call doing better?"

The swelling was actually down from it's worst, but since Buck hadn't seen that all he could go by was how bad it looked now. His eyes were still swollen shut, with dark bruising circling them. The rest of his face was similarly distended. His lip was split open, and small amounts of dried blood could be seen around countless wounds on his face and arms. It looked like he'd been cut up.

Bad as that was, he could see the injuries didn't stop there. There was an ugly, unnatural looking shade of purple extending from the centre of Ezra's chest and down his arm. His left wrist was wrapped in a splint. The thought that there were more injuries hidden under the sheet that was draped over him was enough to make Buck grateful he hadn't eaten in a while.

Nathan had to strain to hear the soft question Buck asked. "He been awake at all?"

"Not yet, but that's not surprising." When Buck didn't respond, Nathan tried to ease his concerns. "Takes a lot of strength to recover from something like this, and all his energy is going into healing right now. Just because he's still out doesn't been he won't wake up."

"Look, Buck, since you're here I'm gonna go over to the clinic and pick up a couple of things. You just sit with him for a few minutes, ok?" He disappeared out the door before the objection he knew was coming could be spoken. Whether he wanted to or not, Buck needed to spend a bit of time alone with Ezra, and this was the best way Nathan knew to accomplish that.

Buck stood perfectly still, not making a move to go closer. He simply couldn't bring himself to take a good look at what he had done. The others would argue the point. Tell him he'd been manipulated and set up. Hell, even Ezra had said as much in that damned letter. Buck knew better. If he'd been using his head, thinking things through for even a minute, Ezra wouldn't be lying here right now. But no, once again he let his baser instincts control him. When was he going to learn to think above the belt buckle once in while?

A soft moan interrupted his self-vilification. "No Ezra, not now. Don't wake up now. Mine should not be the first face you see." Despite his reservations, he sat next to the bed, wringing out a cloth from the pail of cool water. Carefully, he wiped at Ezra's face, hoping it was helping.

Ezra moved his head slightly to the side, murmuring incoherently. His eyelids appeared to flutter briefly, but it was hard to be certain if that was by effort or simply a spasm. After several seconds of that he seemed to settle again, and Buck let out the breath he'd been holding in relief just as the door opened and Josiah entered.

"How's he doing?"

Buck leapt to his feet, dropping the cloth back into the bucket and stepping away.

"Nathan says this is better. Can't see how he survived it being worse. You stay with him Josiah. I can't. Don't have the right to be here with him." He charged out, skirting around Josiah before the older man could even try to stop him.

He watched Buck leave, not knowing what, if anything, he could have said to help him. Retaking his place beside Ezra, he retrieved the cloth and returned to his routine. "There's a whole lot of recuperating that is going to be needed here, and I'm beginning to think your wounds aren't going to be the slowest to heal."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Chris opened the door to the newspaper office, knowing that was the most likely spot to find Mary at this time of day. As expected, she was pulling working at the press, setting a story for the next edition.

"You might want to hold off on that. I think there's a bigger story than whatever you are writing."

She answered without taking her focus from her task. "I am trying to publish an obituary for Mr. Standish. Despite how things turned out, he did do a few decent things for this town."

"Yeah, that's what I figured. You definitely need to stop."

She looked up. "I'm not going to sugar-coat any of this Chris."

"Not asking you to. But you don't have the whole story." He reached into his pocket and once again withdrew Ezra's letter which had retrieved from Buck. "Let's start with this."

He sat quietly as she read it and then waited for her reaction. It was basically what he had expected. "Why would you believe anything he would say?"

"Well, we can start with why would he lie? He was leaving town, knew he wasn't coming back, so why keep up the charade?"

"Because keeping up charades was pretty much second nature to him."

"Maybe. But there is the fact that he described her actions well enough to have been watching every step of the plan."

She had no comeback for that. It was true; the letter laid out what she had seen happen in the short time Clarice – or could it really be Annabella? – had been here.

"Mostly though, it is that Vin followed her out to a meet with the couple of outlaws who damned near beat him to death."

"She met with the people who – wait! Damned NEAR beat him to death?" She was too stunned to watch her language. "He's alive?"

"Yes. At least he was when I left here this morning. Nathan's been treating him over at the church. The two guys who did it met with this Morrison woman and then tried to rob a stage today. With the help of your father-in-law, we stopped them, but with both of them dead we can't tie her in."

"Oren?" This was all getting a bit too confusing.

"He'll be in town soon – can fill you in then. We know she's involved, but she's skipped town. We have no proof to go after her."

"And you're sure it was them?"

"Had Ezra's watch and ring. No doubt."

It was all too much for her to grasp, and she dropped into the closest chair. "Oh dear God. None of what she said…"

"Not a word. She was playing us – all of us."

"I never thought to doubt her. Why would a woman lie about that?" She looked up at Chris and answered her own question. "Of course. For the money. I can't believe it. She seemed so charming. So sweet."

Chris moved a chair over and sat beside her. "She was good – no question. You can't blame yourself for any of this. You certainly weren't the only one she fooled Mary."

"No, but I led everyone else to believe it. And never gave Mr. Standish a moment of the benefit of the doubt. Is he – is he going to be alright?"

"Nathan says he's getting better, but he was hurt real bad. It's going to take time."

Mary knew the damage left by this fraud went far beyond the physical. "And Buck?"

"That one is going to take some time too."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	16. Chapter 16

Chris stepped away from the newspaper offices, looking down the street towards the church. It never ceased to amaze him how life could go on as usual for some when chaos was churning up the world for others. While no one in town had a clue of what had happened in the past few hours, they'd know soon enough. Mary had said she would start getting word out immediately, he knew from experience how fast stories spread in a small community. Before dinner was cleared from the tables tonight most everyone in Four Corners would find out how they had all been misled by a pretty face and a charismatic personality. And they'd know how they'd misjudged someone who deserved better from them. How they would react was still the unknown quantity, but he had to hope things would eventually smooth out.

Spotting JD leaning against the stable door, he headed down the street. Familiar faces nodded at him, with the occasional greeting being spoken. For the most part, people could read his mood and were keeping their distance, even if they didn't yet know why.

"Take it things went according to plan?" JD didn't move from his spot but smiled as Chris approached. "Buck's still in the church."

"Vin and Josiah should be back soon. They were likely only about half hour behind us." The detour they took would have delayed them, but he knew they were anxious to be back. Where he and Buck had taken their time coming back, the others would be pushing their horses to make good time.

"Faster than that." JD pointed by jutting his chin to the east. Chris turned and saw three figures closing in on the town. "So, what do we do next?"

"We wait."

That wasn't the answer he'd been expecting or hoping for. "For what?"

"For the Judge to figure a way we can arrest that bitch. For Ezra to get better. For Buck to get past this. For all of us to get past this I guess."

"You figure all of that is going to happen?"

If he had the answer to that, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be feeling so unsettled now.

"I'm not sure any of it will. How's he doing?"

"Ezra? Better, according to Nathan. Can't say as I see the change, but then I haven't been with him the whole time." There was a hint of an accusation in the tone.

It wasn't a totally unfair indictment. "I know it wasn't fair JD, but we couldn't take any chances this would fall apart. It was a messy enough problem as it was."

JD pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning on and faced Chris squarely. "I know you all think of me a kid, and I admit I don't have the experience and skills all of you do. But I'm NOT a kid Chris. I know when something is important, and this was. I could have handled it. Ain't right that you let me feel so bad about all of this for so long. I get why you thought you had to, but you were wrong."

It was the first time that the kid – the young man - had really stood up to him. Even challenged him. Could be he was right. These past few months had made a difference that he hadn't really noticed before. That made for two of his men who had started to change without him noticing it. He'd have to start paying more attention to the details.

"I thought it was for the best. Guess I'll have to rethink that in the future." It wasn't exactly an apology, but JD seemed satisfied by it.

The two men watched as the riders approached and started to circle behind the church. Chris waved them to come in directly. Despite that, the trio stopped as the hit the edge of town and Josiah dismounted, handing the reins to Vin and walking quickly toward the church. They watched him enter and then rode the short distance to Chris.

"She's skipped town."

Vin cursed as he carefully climbed down, favouring his wounded leg. "I can track her."

"Not until you get Nathan to look at you. After that, if you still want to then go ahead. But all you can do is follow her, right Judge?"

There was a decided reluctance to the nod. "Been trying to come up with a charge against her, and while there may be a few minor options, there is nothing that would warrant the kind of action I'm sure you would prefer to take."

Whatever response Vin was going to make was cut off by Buck rushing out of the church. He turned toward the stable, but seeing the men gathered in front, he changed direction, bolting down the street to the saloon. Nathan had seen it too, from the balcony of the clinic, and he hurried down the stairs and over to the church. When Vin moved to follow, Chris stopped him.

"Don't rush Vin. If it was bad, he'd have come for Nathan, or Josiah would. I think he just needed to get away from all of this."

"You better be the one to go talk to him. Not sure I'm the best one to do that right now. I'm gonna look in on Ez."

"Get Nathan to stitch up that leg of yours."

The rest of the men began the walk into the centre of town. Travis was saved the need to look for Mary when she came out of her office, hurrying toward them.

"Oren, it's wonderful to see you, even under these circumstances. You'll come for dinner, won't you?" She rushed ahead, not giving him a chance to answer. "Chris, I'm sorry. I was so shocked by what you told me that I forgot to give you this."

She handed over a telegram addressed to Ezra. "It's from his mother. Floyd said it came in this morning, and he didn't know how to respond and thought I should. I hadn't gotten around to it yet. To be honest, I couldn't even bring myself to read it." She linked arms with her father-in-law, steering him toward her home, and the two departed.

Opening the telegram, Chris felt an anger welling up. Another warning that came to late. '_Dear Boy. Morrison and company coming. I've learned things and lost my trust in them. Could be trouble. Take care._'

"That's it?" JD asked after it had been read aloud. "Watch for trouble? She knew something was wrong and that's the warning his own ma gives – after the trouble has come and gone."

"Must be that she didn't know to warn him earlier. Wonder what she means she's learned things?"

"That's what kinda makes it sound like she knew something in advance, doesn't it? You going to answer it?"

Chris hesitated. He wasn't good at things like this. Maybe he'd get Mary to help him after all. "Guess I should even if I haven't got an idea what to say. Like to wait until he's awake so she doesn't worry as much."

"Well, maybe he's awake now. Wanna come with me to check?"

He looked down towards the saloon, wondering how long it would take Buck to get himself royally drunk. Figuring he was likely going hard at it he made his decision.

"You go ahead and check. I think I'm going to be needed somewhere else."

JD followed Chris's gaze to the saloon, and concern shaded his face. "You want me to come with? Maybe he won't get as far gone if I'm there."

"Company isn't gonna make the difference JD. You let me take care of this."

Torn now by which friend to help, JD opted for following orders. The last thing Chris needed was anyone giving him something else to worry about. "I'll come by later and let you know how Ez is doing." He turned and jogged over to his destination, hurrying in when he got there.

"Dammit Nathan, how many stitches do you think a little scratch like this needs?"

"Enough that it stops bleeding. Keep pulling away from me Vin and it'll need even more."

Josiah chuckled softly. "Listen to the two of them Ezra, going at it like a couple of overgrown kids."

The broad smile JD had as he approached disappeared quickly as he stopped short a few feet away. "Geez Josiah. I figured he was awake when you were talking to him like that."

"I choose to believe he can hear what's going on, so it would be rude not to include him in the discussion. Besides, I think he would find the conversation entertaining, don't you?."

"Nah, one of us fighting with Nathan while he patches us up is too common to be entertaining – right Ez?" He tried to not let the disappointment show when there was, of course, no answer.

"There, now keep the bandage wrapped around that, and I'll look at it tomorrow. OK, Josiah, you're next."

Vin immediately moved into Josiah's vacated spot. He had hoped to see more change than this but took no small comfort in the fact Ezra was still with them. "Guessing Josiah told you we got the bastards Pard. They won't be hurting anyone else. And we got your things back. I'll hold onto your watch and ring for you. Some money too. Don't know what you had when you left here, but we took everything we found on them. Figure it's all yours now."

No one spoke for several minutes as Nathan patched up Josiah and they all kept an eye on Ezra. There seemed to be so much that needed to be dealt with that the enormity of it all negated their ability to do anything at all.

Fidgety, JD stood and paced in the aisles. When the silence finally got to him, he turned to Nathan. "What did Buck say when he came in here?"

"Not a lot. He seemed kind of dumbstruck when he saw Ez."

"He's blaming himself. It's eating at him bad."

Josiah was pleased to hear the empathy in the youngster's voice. JD had been the first to question Buck's attitude in all of this, and the most vocal. Knowing he was equally quick to show his support for his friend would go a long way in healing the rift that had developed.

Vin was a little less forgiving. "He should feel bad. Ain't saying this is **all** his fault, but Buck screwed up, and this is the result."

Ezra stirred restlessly. A low moan came from him as he appeared to be trying to wake up for the first time.

"Ezra, can you hear me?" Josiah moved to his side, but Nathan got there first. "You need to stay still Ezra. Stay calm."

The words had no effect. Ezra was trembling now as he rolled his head slowly to one side and then back while struggled for breath. Vin began to gently rub his chest, hoping to ease some of the discomfort. The result was a sharp gasp and Ezra trying to open his eyes. "Buck." He wheezed out softly. "Buck."

Nathan grew more insistent. "Ezra, stop talking. Your jaw is a mess, and your gonna make it worse. Just calm down. Buck isn't here now, but we can get him if you want." He looked to JD, who hesitated.

"He's at the saloon with Chris. Likely pretty drunk by now."

"Warn –" he was trying to speak again. "Warn him. She'll kill –". He coughed lightly and his face tightened as the pain ripped through his chest. It didn't stop him from trying again. "Help him." His head lolled to the side again as he faded back into unconsciousness.

Vin still had his hand on Ezra's chest. "Damn. His heart is racing Nathan."

"Not surprised, riled as he seemed to be. Got tea that might help but getting it into him is another matter."

"Fix it. If I have to do it a spoonful at a time, I'll get it into him." Josiah turned his attention to Vin. "You need to go down to the saloon and get Buck back here. Seeing him, hearing him, might help calm Ezra some."

"Let JD go. I'm as likely to take a swing at Buck as I am to talk to him."

"That's precisely why it needs to be you. To make him understand how important this is, for both of them."

JD stepped forward. "He's right Vin. I'll go with you, but Buck won't listen to me. He might if you tell him what Ezra just said – or at least tried to say. Don't get it myself, but maybe you can explain it."

Vin looked back and forth between the two of them, then back at Ezra. It was evident he was still feeling anxious. The lines on his face were tight, and it was a sure bet the pain was only part of the reason. How could he explain Ezra's concern to JD or Buck when he didn't understand it himself? Why would someone as weak and hurting as Ezra was give a damn about the man who turned on him and basically set up all the trouble in the first place?

Seeing the indecision, and know exactly what was bothering Vin, Josiah answered the unasked question. "Because he considers Buck a friend. He may not have even realized it himself, but here with us he was finding real friendship for what was likely the first time in his life. I'd bet he figures his history with this woman played a big part in all of this, and it would just 'bout kill him if anything happened to one of us because of her."

"You believe a man can change that much?" Nathan handed Josiah the mug of tea and a spoon.

"I don't think he's really changed. I just think the far better man that is underneath all that bluster and sarcasm and game-face that he puts on is starting to come through a bit. Given time, I think we will be seeing more of it."

Nathan grinned slightly. "Somehow I have trouble seeing Ezra Standish turning into some kind of righteous, generous and respectable member of our community."

Josiah chuckled as Vin stood to head out on his mission. "Oh, I wouldn't go quite that far. We wouldn't want him to become boring now, would we?"

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	17. Chapter 17

There was an understanding in most small towns, wherever you travelled, that particular people could be found in particular places at particular times of day. The most popular saloon in Four Corners was just such a place, where the regular crowd appeared on a very regular basis. At this point in the day, late afternoon, the room looked pretty much as Chris expected. Only a couple of out-of-towners, both of whom he had seen earlier and didn't seem likely to be a cause for concern. Since no one had disembarked from the morning stage and there were no cattle drives in the area at this time of year there were no other unfamiliar faces. The men that were scattered around at the tables were mostly single townsfolk – the married ones were either still working or already on the way home. A few hands from some near by ranches but being mid-week there weren't too many. All in all, a typical scene, with two notable differences.

Ezra's usual table sat empty. Ezra maintained it was the best location for a poker game in the room, though he never explained why. Chris always figured it was just more of the show the gambler loved to put on to keep his opponents off balance. There was a deck of cards sitting there, but they weren't his. Clearly someone else had decided to take over the lucky spot under the false belief it's founder was never coming back.

The other difference was standing at the bar, holding a shot glass in one hand and whiskey bottle in the other. Chris found himself hoping the bottle hadn't been full when Woody had given it to him, because it was already half gone. If Buck was drinking that fast, there was no way they could have anything close to a decent conversation now.

Buck was lifting the bottle to pour another when a hand landed on top of his.

"Think you've had enough."

"I haven't even started Cowboy, so you best let go of that."

Buck knew the glare he got in response. God knows, he'd seen it often enough over the years. The last thing he wanted was to fight with anyone right now. He was too busy beating himself up to add another party to the mix.

"Fine. You keep the bottle. I'll go somewhere else."

"Buck don't make me close every saloon in town. You'll end up with a whole lot of people mighty pissed off with you."

"More than already are – or soon will be? Don't see as that could be possible."

Keeping the sigh to himself, Chris took Buck firmly by the elbow. He pulled away, but an even firmer grip was immediately in place. Dropping his glass Buck pulled back his free arm, ready to take a solid swing to regain his freedom when the uselessness of it all overwhelmed him. Chris could almost feel the fight draining out of his friend as the two men made their way to a more private spot in the room. He wasn't pleased that Buck had dragged the bottle with him, but at least for the moment there was no glass to pour it into. That didn't preclude the possibility he planned on swigging directly, but that could be dealt with if and when needed.

"Nobody hates you Buck."

"That what you think? I can name a few. Think I can't see the looks I'm already getting – and word hasn't even reached everybody yet."

Chris looked around the bar, ready to deck the first person he saw who might be giving Buck so much as a disparaging glance. No one even appeared to be looking their way, let alone condemning the man. Guilt was obviously weighing heavily on him.

"Only man in this bar mad at you is you. We all got taken in. Beating yourself up won't help anyone." He winced, wishing he had phrased that differently. Fortunately, Buck was too far into his own concerns to notice it.

"I just keep thinking on how it felt when everyone thought I'd killed him. Guess you sure had reason to think it was possible, and I sure as hell wanted to. But nobody'd listen to me. Keep thinking on how shitty that felt, but not a bad as it does knowing I did worse to him."

"We can't do anything about that now. But this-" he pointed at the bottle "won't help anything. Take it from someone who tried crawling into one."

After staring at the whisky, Buck slowly pushed it back. His head knew Chris was right, even if his heart wasn't ready to accept it. He needed to focus on finding a way to make things right. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine but one way that could ever begin to happen, and as much as he hated it he was ready to do it. Why not? For entirely different reasons, it was almost exactly the same plan he'd had that very morning. He pulled the cork from his pocket and jammed it back into the bottle, pushing it further away. He sat quietly for several minutes before squaring his shoulders back and looking at Chris.

"I'm gonna go clean up some, then I'm riding out."

"Where? You can't still be planning on tracking her down?"

He'd love to. He had wondered, fleetingly, if she'd be able to ply her charms and fool him again. Then his mind conjured up the image of what Friesen had likely seen - Ezra lying bloody and battered, left to die in the middle of nowhere for the scavengers and he knew there was no danger of ever succumbing to her wiles again. Now he wanted to find her, and to find a way to make her pay. But that wasn't going to happen either. Much as he would have liked to, there seemed to be no legal way to do it, and he wasn't ready to cross that line – yet. If Ezra didn't make it then things would change. She'd find out she didn't win, and she'd pay the price. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone else.

He looked up, realizing Chris was waiting for an answer. "I'd just as soon never lay eyes on her again. And I don't know where I'm headed. Just away."

"Running?"

He was silent.

"Damn it Wilmington. Thought you had more guts than that." Vin's voice came from behind.

This was the last thing Chris had wanted to see. He was in no mood to mediate a fight between his two best friends. Not now. Not ever.

"I can't stay here. I – I just can't."

"No. Guess it's a helluva lot easier to hide from your mistakes than to deal with them, isn't it? No matter who you hurt in the process."

"I'm trying avoid hurting anyone. You think Ezra is going to want me around after the role I played in what happened to him?"

To the surprise of both men, Vin started laughing. "You sound just like him. That's kinda what he meant in the letter, wasn't it? That he hoped you – we - could forgive him for his part in training that – woman."

"Not the same thing."

Vin sobered. "No, it isn't. He'd see it that way, or likely that what he did was worse. He's starting to wake up." Both men perked up at the news, but Vin continued before they could ask anything. "You want to know what he said? What he was worrying about while fighting to keep breathing? He was afraid she was going to hurt you Buck. Was asking if you were alright – telling us to protect you."

Buck couldn't speak or even swallow around the lump in his throat. He didn't deserve that concern.

"He say anything else?" Chris asked quietly.

"No, didn't have the strength. Passed out again." He turned back to Buck. "If I have to hogtie you I will, but you are not leaving this town until Ezra sees that you are safe. Not gonna let him worry himself even sicker thinking you got hurt because of him. He can't handle that now."

"You heard the man Buck. Leaving is the exact opposite of how you want help fix this."

That changed things, for the short term anyway. He couldn't leave. He'd caused enough hardship for the gambler without adding to it now. Made no sense to him that Ezra would give a rat's ass about him but seems like he did. Staying near was going to be hard, but he'd sit in that front pew waiting to reassure him if that was what was needed. It was a small price to pay.

It worked. Vin could see the small shift in posture that told him Buck was staying. He could also see how hard that was for him, and decided maybe for the sake of all concerned, there was more that needed to be said. Hoping his timing wasn't off, he spun a chair around next to him and straddled it.

"Won't say I'm not mad at how this played out, and things that were said and done, but I will say this. I'm sorry we had to lie to you Buck. Tell you he was dead. Tell you I thought you done it. For what it's worth, I knew that was impossible. In anger anyone can do just about anything he lives to regret, but hunting a man down like that – not your style. You're a better man than that. Even if we both might be having a bit of trouble accepting that right now. Ez is going to want you to stay in Four Corners. I do too."

He stood and walked away to spare Buck the need to respond.

After watching Vin leave, Buck stood slowly and went back to the bar, returning the bottle to Woody and tossing more than enough coins on the counter to cover what he'd drunk. He picked up the hat he'd left there and turned, startled to see his way blocked by Chris.

"No unloading your guilt on him when he wakes up. There'll be time for the two of you to figure all this out later. For now, you must make sure he knows you're alright."

"Then what?"

"I can't order you to stay, even though it's what's best. But if you feel you need to do some kinda penance, I do have an idea."

Buck put his hat on and started toward the door. He stopped there and hesitated for a moment. "What did you have in mind?"

Keeping the smile of relief to himself, Chris caught up to him. "Ezra – all of us – are obliged to Abram Friesen. We cost the man some time and labour way from his ranch. You might think on spending a couple days out there lending a hand. Some hard work and sleeping under the stars might give you time to clear your head of this crap about leaving as well."

"Not the worst idea I've heard." He started walking toward the church his pace slowing as he got closer. Chris remained just a step behind.

His hand hovered over the handle on the door. No inspiration had come to help him figure out what he'd say when he got in there, or how he'd handle this. There was nothing in his past that prepared him for this experience. If Chris hadn't been at his back, he suspected he'd have turned and bolted, and he was sure that was why he was followed.

The door opened in front of him. JD stepped back to let him pass. "Well, you ain't doing anybody any good out there. He's still sleeping again, but Nathan thinks he's calmed some. Get in and see for yourself."

The young man turned to Chris. "I'll head out on evening patrol in a few minutes. Just need to get some grub first." He slipped past the men and made his way down the street, whistling merrily. For the first time since Clarice had stepped of that stage, JD was beginning to feel like things were going to be getting back to normal.

"You need to do the same Josiah. Not the patrol part, but you need to get some rest." Nathan was concerned by the fatigue showing on the older man's face, and the others noticed it as well. "Go stretch out on one of the beds in the clinic. If you just lie down in the back here, you won't sleep for trying to listen to us."

"You should talk. Look worse than I do."

"He's right Nathan. Vin too. The three of you need a good night's sleep. Buck and me will stick by Ezra. You'll be close enough if he needs anything. Get some grub and some sleep."

Nathan shook his head. "Not leaving my patient."

Trying to speak, Buck's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and started again. "If he's worried about me in all of this, think on how he'd feel if any of you got sick 'cause of him. Go on and do what Chris said. Promise you we won't let anything happen with him."

Seeing now the secondary motive behind the order, all three nodded. Vin stood first. "Seeing as how bad Josiah snores when he's this tired, I'll be in the wagon."

"No, you'll sack out on in my room at the boarding house. You need a proper bed for the night." Buck looked at him almost desperate for Vin to accept the gesture. With a small smile, he did.

"Not sure I can sleep in that kind of comfort but be worth a shot. You'll get me if anything changes." It wasn't a question, but Chris nodded his answer regardless.

Nathan moved and prodded Josiah to do the same. Reluctantly, he complied, give Ezra a gentle pat on the shoulder before walking away. Chris took his place, while Buck sat a bit further off.

Vin glanced back as he left. "I'll let JD know what's happening. He'll likely poke in when he gets back later."

The church was quiet after that, except for the soft wheezing from Ezra. He looked now to be asleep rather than unconscious. There was almost a tranquillity to him that hadn't been there before. It was clear to see he was still in pain, and far from being out of any danger, but overall the sense of foreboding seemed to have dissipated.

Neither man could say how much time had passed when they heard the creaking of the door. As predicted, JD stepped into the darkened room looking every bit as tired as everyone seemed to be feeling. Before Chris could order him off to bed as he had the others, JD stepped into the light enough to make it clear he was carrying something. Moving closer, he set down some sandwiches and a pot of coffee.

"Mrs. Travis asked me to bring these to you. She said she was going to, but though maybe you didn't want to be disturbed."

"Thank her for me. You might as well go get some rest JD. There's no more real change yet."

"Can I tell that to folks?"

Grabbing a sandwich, Chris looked up with a questioning look. "Who's asking?"

"Most folks. Mrs. Travis says Mrs. Potter has been sweeping her porch for over an hour, watching the church for any signs. Woody is asking, and so is Tiny. And Miss Leach at the bakery. Lots more at the saloon. They seem to feel pretty worried about him."

Chris closed his eyes in a quick prayer of relief and gratitude. Another sign that maybe things were going to settle back to some kind of normal. Better yet, a new kind of normal.

"Yeah, you let people know. But no visitors. None of us need that kind of commotion right now."

Buck looked up. "See if you can get a few of the men to lend a hand on patrols for a few days. Josiah and Vin should take some time down, and I'm heading out to Friesen's place for a couple of days after Ez wakes up."

Uncertainty crossed JD's face. "Leaving town?" That wasn't what he had expected and didn't care for the idea.

"No. Just paying back a debt for a friend. Ain't near what I owe, but I guess it's a start."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	18. Chapter 18

Every muscle in his body objected when Buck slowly unfolded himself from the scrunched up posture he'd settled for the night before. Pews may be easy to fall asleep on during a Sunday morning sermon, but when you are looking for a decent night's sleep, they failed miserably at providing an ounce of comfort. And when it was the third night in a row, it fell just shy of torture.

The positive side in all of this, and it wasn't easy to find one, was that as far as he could tell, Ezra was getting better. Definitely taking his time about it, but then that was his style. He hadn't woken up again the first evening or night that Buck was there, but over the last two days he'd been drifting in an out of a semblance of awareness. Nothing that could be called waking up, and certainly no moments of clarity, but definitely heading the way things needed to be.

The others took turns staying with him, but other than a few short necessity breaks, Buck had stayed where he had promised to be the whole time. He'd heard his name called in moments of borderline consciousness but hadn't yet been able to calm or reassure Ezra of his presence. After a few agonizing to watch moments of tossing and turning, he would settle again, brow soaked in sweat and face etched in pain and worry. Buck couldn't stop wondering just how much more of this either of them could take.

He could hear his joints cracking as he stretched his back out before taking a quick walk around the church to work out a few more of the kinks. Wandering while still keeping his focus to the front of the church, he almost collided with the door being thrown open as JD arrived with breakfast.

"Jeez Buck – watch yourself. Damn near knocked the coffee out of my hand."

"And you damn near knocked me out." Buck snapped back. "What have you got – more cold sludge and day-old door stoppers?"

"No. Fresh coffee and biscuits from the bakery. Still warm. Not sure you deserve any if that's the kind of good morning you're going to give me." He twisted his way past Buck and headed further in with the intention of taking the spot next to Josiah, who was fighting to hide his grin. It was good to see the two friends sparring again, even if there was still a bit of tension to it.

JD forced a cheery tone into his voice as he approached. "Good morning to you too Ezra. You're looking better today."

"Not feeling it."

The room echoed with the crash of the tin plate of biscuits hitting the floor. "Ezra, did you just answer me?"

"Would have been rude not to." The voice was soft and weak, but unmistakable. It was all JD could do to not jump for joy. Fortunately, Josiah was the one closest and moved to still Ezra before he could talk further.

"Much as we are all mighty grateful to hear your voice again son, you really shouldn't be doing much speaking. Your jaw was cracked, and the less you move it the happier you are going to be."

"Where am I? Church?"

Josiah clucked softly. "Now didn't you hear what I just said? Yes, you are in the church. It's kind of a complicated story, but let's just say it was easier and safer to keep you in here while you healed up. Now, you stay still. JD is going to go get Nathan."

It was a good idea and JD understood the need for it, but as he was rooted to the spot it wasn't about to happen. He felt as if he had been waiting forever for this moment, and the thought of leaving now was unimaginable to him. Josiah bent forward and picked up one of the biscuits that had rolled toward him. With precision aim he hit JD on the side of the head, rousing him from his daze.

"Oh, right. Yeah. I can do that. You're gonna stay awake though, right Ezra?"

Assuming the small head movement to be a nod, JD reluctantly tore his gaze away and moved toward the door. He stopped when he saw Buck staring quietly at the scene from a distance. "Ain't you going to go over there? Isn't this what you've been waiting here for?"

Moistening his lips nervously, Buck whispered back. "He's not asking for me. Don't want to upset him."

"Next time you call me a stupid kid, I'm gonna remind you of this." JD moved around him, then shoved him toward the front as he escaped out the door shouting for Nathan and the others.

The stumbling sound seemed to rouse Ezra further and he made a weak effort to turn to find the source. Josiah stilled him again. "Stop moving Ezra. You are a lot of hurt there, and it's gonna take time. You don't move – we come to you for now." He waved Buck closer. Knowing he had no choice, Buck slowly obeyed, inching forward until he was within range of the one eye Ezra was able to fully open.

Expressions of shock, relief, sadness and trepidation all danced across the face of the normally unflappable gambler. If he'd been at a poker table he would have been sorely disadvantaged as nothing was hidden.

"Mr. Wilmington." The uncertainty in his tone was evident. He was completely unable to determine what response Buck would have to seeing him back in town after all that had transpired between them. Buck read it differently.

"Hush Ezra. You need to be doing what you were told and that means hard as it is for you, you aren't supposed to be talking." Buck swallowed hard as he watched for a sign of forgiveness, not that he expected or deserved it. "I'm just here so that you know I'm ok. You don't need to be worrying about me in all this crap. You don't need to be thinking about me at all, you understand? You just get yourself well again."

Ezra closed his eyes slowly and forced himself to respond with a brief nod. He understood all too well and accepted his fate. He had no trouble believing that Buck wanted nothing to do with him. There really was no need for him to dwell on that matter. All that matter was that he got well enough to do what he had set out to do – what he had been told to do. Leave. Nothing had changed.

He wanted so badly to ask what had happened. How and why was he back in Four Corners? Was Annabella still around? Had the con – whatever it was – taken place? Would they even know if it had? Would they listen to him this time? The questions bounded around in his head, but he lacked the energy needed to give them voice.

He heard the door open, followed by voices speaking in somewhat muted but anxious tones. Soft as they were, he could recognize them, and easily deduce what the conversation was about. The others were determining how soon he could be gone, now that he was awake. The veritable inevitability of his fate tore at him, with the worst part being that he knew absolutely nothing he could say or do had a hope of altering it. All he could do was prepare himself to deal with the consequences yet again.

What he needed to do now was to try to sort out was why he was here. The last thing he remembered was leaving town. No, that wasn't right. He remembered riding off for some time before stopping to rest. That was the last clear memory. How then did he end up back in of all places a church, recovering from whatever had happened?

Blocking out everything else he tried to focus, but the pain was too distracting. Josiah had said he had a broken jaw, but it was apparent there was much more to it than that. Every fibre of his being ached. Each suggestion of movement made his head spin and his stomach lurch. Breathing was an unwelcomed challenge as well as muscles strained with even the shallowest inhalation. What could possibly have caused him so much harm? The few options that flitted through his mind were quickly rejected. Chaucer would never have thrown or dragged him; he was certain of that. There was no place he could have fallen on the route he was travelling, and he couldn't envision any occurrence in nature that would account for it. That left only external forces to blame.

The last threat he recalled was here in town. Buck had planned to shoot him, but had restrained the desire. Regardless, this was not the after effect of that kind of injury. It would be a different matter if he had threatened a beating… it all came rushing back to him. The ambush, the taunting and then the relentless pounding that he had taken. The fists flashed in his mind and he trembled as he relived every blow.

Buck was closest to him, having stayed in place as Josiah went to update the others. He watched as Ezra's body suddenly tensed and started to shake. He was moaning softly and trying with no success to move away.

"Nathan! Somethings wrong!" Buck knelt quickly next to the bed. "Easy Ezra. Take it easy."

"No. Stop!" His arms flailed weakly and the words were barely understandable through the sobs and gasping breaths, but it was enough for Buck to put the pieces together.

"It's over Ezra. You're safe. They're gone Ezra. You hear me. The bastards are dead."

The others had reached him by now and trying as gently as possible to hold him still with limited success. Buck backed away from the scene, afraid that somehow his presence had triggered the memories.

Nathan firmly but gently took hold of Ezra's arms. "Ezra, stop. You're gonna pull out stitches and hurt yourself worse."

"Ezra, listen to me. It's Vin Ezra. You're alright, but you have to calm down. Please."

"Damn it Standish. Hold still."

Whether it was Chris's authoritarian order, Vin's calming voice or sheer exhaustion no one could say, but Ezra began to settle. His breathing was still strained, and the panic remained evident in his face and body language, but the thrashing gradually slowed. Vin continued to try to quieten him, speaking in low, soft tones as Nathan began checking him over to make sure he hadn't reinjured himself.

Desperately trying to find the strength to talk, Ezra finally succeeded in gasping out a single word. "Dead?"

"You mean the two who did this? Yeah, both of them." Vin smiled reassuringly. "They tried to go ahead with their plan, but we made sure that didn't happen."

Ezra closed his eyes, trying to settle himself. Showing this much emotion and vulnerability was not the way he lived his life, and it felt decidedly uncomfortable, especially in these circumstances. Nathan mistook the action for something else.

"That's a good idea. You get some more sleep. Need to work at getting yourself strong enough that we can get you out of here."

Yes. That merely served to confirm what he expected. Tuning out whatever else was being said, Ezra turned his focus to recovery and leaving all of this behind.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Buck was waiting outside the church when Chris finally came out, with Vin just a few feet behind, still favouring his bad leg.

"He settled again?"

"Looks like. Doesn't seem to have hurt himself in that panic, which was lucky."

Chris's words were welcome news, and made what Buck was waiting to tell them a bit easier.

"I'm gonna head out soon then. Take a load of supplies out to Friesen's place. I checked with Mrs. Potter. She's still holding onto the order they were coming in for when all this happened. Figured I'd load a wagon and take it. See if they could use a hand."

In the past couple of days Buck had gotten a bit better about speaking to the others again, but he still didn't seem to be able to bring himself to look them in the eye while he did. That was going to take time, Chris supposed. Hopefully not too much more. What they all needed was for things to start getting back to some kind of normal, and the sooner the better.

"How long?" Both men looked at Vin. "How long you plan on staying there?"

Buck shrugged. "Guess as long as they need the help. I'm guessing doin' what they did for Ezra set them back some, so an extra hand might set that right."

Glancing back at the church, Vin considered everything that had been going on. Angry as he'd been at Buck, and to a slightly lesser degree Nathan and Chris, it had been good to see them all put together now to be there for Ezra, and each other. He knew how hard it was on Buck for him to sit there waiting, watching and probably praying a bit for things to work out. Now, with Ezra awake and seeming to be alright or at least on the way there, there was some other healing that needed to be started.

"Think you can manage this town for a couple days with two men gone Chris?"

Buck looked up in surprise. "You want to come with me?" Vin hadn't exactly been overly friendly toward him, not that he blamed the tracker. So why would he want to spend time with him now, and under these conditions?

"If you want the company. We'll be able to get things on track for them faster, which means we get back here faster as well. Both know Chris can't handle this town without us." He added the last with a wink.

"Yeah – with the two of you gone we might actually have a bit of peace and quiet and you know how much I hate days like that."

Shaking his head, Vin laughed. "Don't worry. JD and Josiah will see to it you don't get bored."

"You want to ride with me?" The joking had done nothing to diffuse Buck's confusion. "Why?"

"Well, if I don't ride with you it's gonna make this peacekeeping job kinda hard to do, wouldn't you say?" When there was no response, Vin continued. "Look, the truth is I wasn't sure you'd be ready to ride with me, what with the accusations and lying and all." Not exactly the full truth, although the thought had crossed is mind. This may have been a bit of a stretching of the truth, but one that Vin hoped would provide Buck with a bit more confidence, and maybe a clearer perspective on how they all needed to get past everything that had been said and done.

Knowing they were watching him, waiting for his answer, Buck wavered briefly. Slowly, just a hint of a smile appeared under the moustache. "Well, I suppose I've had worse riding company, haven't I cowboy?"

Chris sighed dramatically, grinning to himself in the process. "Outta here – both of you. Do my sanity a favour and stay away for at least a day."

He watched the two men walk off, a bit more distance between them then usual, but at least together. It wasn't what it had been, but it was a step in the right direction.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	19. Chapter 19

He was tempting fate. To the very core of his soul, he knew it was true. The moment the thought crossed his mind that this was the best day they'd had in what felt like forever, Chris new he'd just invited some kind of trouble into town.

He swung his feet up to the railing that framed the deck around the saloon, and tilted the chair back, balancing precariously. He chortled lightly at his thoughts. Superstitious nonsense. Far more in fitting with Josiah's belief in the omens, or Ezra's adherence to his gambling rituals. One stray thought did not bring about the end of what passed for civilization in these parts.

He watched as Nathan rode slowly into town. He'd spent the night at a nearby farm after an accident had injured one of the kids. Nothing to serious, but Nathan being Nathan, he'd stayed to keep watch. The man looked exhausted, which wasn't surprising. With Vin and Buck still out of town, they'd all been pulling extra duty. The healer had insisted he was capable of doing some patrol work, but that was vetoed. It was enough that he was minding Ezra while still helping to keep watch around town and tending to anyone else who needed aid; it would be foolish to have him out riding when Josiah and JD could help with that.

Chris was hoping he was right in figuring Buck and Vin would be back today. He doubted the Friesen family would want the outsiders staying around too long, however helpful they might be. He just hoped that the past few days of penance was having a good affect on Buck. It wasn't going to be enough, but with any luck it would help him at least start to ease up on himself. And if the time the two men had spent together helped heal some of that conflict as well, so much the better.

"Every ok out at the Daniels place?"

Nathan redirected his path over to the saloon. "Yeah. Toby will be fine. Sore for a few days, but it might teach him that climbing trees to find apples needs to be left to the older kids."

"Don't bet on it." He looked at the obvious exhaustion on the man's face. "Go get some shut-eye Nathan. JD's with Ezra. He's doing fine. Slept the whole night without waking once."

"And you know that because you stayed with him? You're the one should be sleeping."

"I got a few hours in this morning. When the guys get back we can all start getting back to normal."

The skeptical look Nathan gave him didn't have a chance to be followed by any comment as voices from in the saloon got louder quickly. Reluctantly Chris got to his feet as Nathan dismounted and quickly tied his horse to the post. They were about to enter when the doors swung wildly as a figure stumbled out of control through them, falling into the street. He was on his feet quickly, just in time to be standing when his apparent attacker charged out, leaping on him with fists flying. They rolled in the dirt as a small but enthusiastic crowd began to form, more or less divided in who they were supporting.

Once he got a look at the faces, he didn't need to ask any questions to confirm his suspicion. It wasn't the first time these two idiots had been fighting over a card game. They were regulars at the jail, although usually on a Saturday night, not in the middle of a weekday. Chris's inclination was to let the two of them exhaust each other, then throw the pair into separate cells to let them cool off, while using whatever money was left on the table to pay for damages. Same as he'd done last time.

That inclination changed in a heartbeat when one of the men reached for a gun. Well before it cleared the holster Chris had fired off a warning shot that had everyone frozen in place.

"Honest Mr. Larabee. I wasn't gonna shoot him. Just defending myself is all. Clint is faster than me, so I had to draw first."

"Shut up Dwayne. Don't you two ever get tired of being this stupid?"

He waved with his gun to point them in the direction of the jail and was surprised to see JD rushing down the street toward them, slowing as he realized what was going on.

"Aw hell. I was hopin' this was something interesting. Been too quiet around here lately."

Chris stared at him in disbelief. "Everything that has happened in the past week, and you say it's too quiet. What the hell do you want JD? Maybe a stampede through town with some outlaw gang following behind?"

Looking only mildly abashed, JD toed at the dirt. "Well, maybe not that much. But you gotta admit, things are mighty slow in the last couple of days."

"And you see that as bad thing? JD, you have got to get your priorities straightened out."

Nathan glanced toward the church. "Speaking of priorities, aren't you supposed to be sitting with Ezra?"

"He's asleep. That's all he seems to do. Even when he's awake, he ain't talking like he used to. Just lays there quiet as a –" he caught himself before finishing the thought with 'corpse' as intended.

"He needs to rest JD. And I'm the one telling him not to talk so that his jaw heals up right."

The crowd began to disperse, realizing the excitement was over for the moment and there was nothing more to see. The lawmen began walking their newest prisoners to the jail, ignoring the mumbled pleas of innocence that were being muttered.

"Not like Ezra to stay quiet, no matter what orders you give him."

Nathan smiled wryly. "No pleasing you, is there Chris? You complain when he talks, now you're complaining when he doesn't."

Chris was quiet for the remainder of the walk, speaking again only after the men were locked up and the trio had stepped outside again. "It's more than just being quiet Nathan. His whole style is off."

"Well, let's see. Run out of town, beaten and left for dead, busted up six ways from Sunday and hurting like the dickens. Yeah, I can see where that might put a hitch in his style."

"No, that's not it. He's – I don't know – unsettled? Defeated?"

Nathan had to concede he had noticed it too. The defiance, the overconfidence, the spirit, seemed to have been beaten out of him as well. Even as he was beginning to regain his strength, there was no sign the attitude was returning. And while Nathan might have been expected to think that was a change for the better, the truth was he was almost as disturbed by it as Chris seemed to be.

"Ah, he'll come around." There was that eternal Dunne optimism again. "Just needs a bit more time to see that things are back to the way they were. What might help is getting him out of that church and into the clinic."

"What about it Nathan? We've all been asking about when we could get him outta there."

Nathan nodded. "Way he's healed up over the last few days it could be we can do that later today."

They opened the door and walked in, Chris in the lead. The others almost slammed into him when he stopped short. "Son of a bitch. He's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone. He was asleep when I left." JD ran forward, refusing to believe what had been said. "Think someone came for him? Would Clarice – Anna – whatever, would she have done that?"

Chris shook his head. "She doesn't strike me as being stupid enough to come back to town for that, knowing what would be waiting for her." He turned. "He strong enough to be moving on his own?"

Nathan was muttering to himself about stupid, stubborn southerners, so it took him a moment to respond.

"Maybe – barely. Doesn't mean he should be. Gonna rip open some of those cuts again."

JD headed toward the side door. "Maybe he just needed to – well, you know."

"Got a pot under the bed for that." The others followed him to the door and stepped out back.

"Damnit!" Nathan charged forward to where Ezra lay sprawled on the ground, the blanket he had wrapped himself in only partially covering him now. Rolling him slowly and carefully, he was rewarded with a flailing of weak hands try to swat him away."

"Leave me alone. I am fine."

"Yeah, you look just dandy." Chris knelt next to him. "Where the hell do you think you're going Standish?"

"If you ripped up all the work I did I've got half a mind to just let you bleed, you damned fool."

Ezra went still again, closing his eyes and cursing to himself over yet another failure. All he wanted to do was get out of here. He thought he felt well enough to ride out, to go somewhere else to rest and recover. Somewhere that he was wanted. He'd barely made it 20 feet from the building before the earth spun out around him and he landed unceremoniously on his face. Even when he was trying to do as he'd been told, he couldn't get it right.

Chris watched as emotions played across the gambler's normally unrevealing face. Something was troubling him, and it was looking like it was a good deal more than simply the trauma of his beating. He didn't know what he could say or do to break through the uncharacteristically stoic silence, but he had a feeling there was one thing that might help.

"We're gonna get you back to bed Ezra, but not the church. Think you've had enough of that. You need yourself a proper bed."

Nathan wasn't keen on trying to get him up the narrow steps to the clinic after this, but he agreed it would be an improvement. If for no other reason than easer access to his supplies, limited as they were. "Gonna be tricky getting him up the steps."

"Too your place – yes. To his room, not so much."

"No. Too far. And he needs to be patched up."

"You indicated you had no intention of addressing my injuries Mr. Jackson."

It should have been a defiant comment, but the tone was pure dejection. Nathan looked down, then over to Chris, raising an eyebrow in question. Chris merely nodded his agreement with the unspoken thought – Ezra's physical problems were quickly becoming the least of their concerns.

"OK, slow and easy. You take one side and I'll get on the other. Wish Josiah was back. We could use another hand. JD, go ahead and make sure his bed is ready. Then get your butt back to the clinic and get me my kit so I can put him back together."

"Hey Ezra – you're going home. Back to your place. Ain't that great?"

As JD took off like a bolt, Chris headed back into the church. It took him only a moment to find Josiah's sarape and he grabbed it and headed back out. Moving Ezra without causing any more harm was going to be more of a challenge than it seemed.

With Nathan concentrating on how to make the move with as little additional damage as possible, it fell to Chris to try to keep Ezra distracted, starting with the difficult task of getting the wrap on him to provide a bit more coverage for the trip through town. "You got a lot more bulk to you than it looks. For someone who never lifts a finger unless it's to shuffle, you got a lot of muscle on you."

After laying Ezra's arm over Chris's shoulder, Nathan positioned himself to be able to wrap his arm around Ezra's waist and support the more seriously injured arm to keep it as still as possible. It was almost impossible to find a way to hold him up that didn't put strain on some injury, but throughout the efforts Ezra remained silent.

"Okay Ez. You ready to move?" There was the faintest hint of a nod as a response, but both men could see he was clenching his jaw, which had to be making things even worse. The pain lines around his eyes had deepened and sweat glistened on his face. Nathan came within a hair's breadth of calling the whole thing off, but the determined look on Chris's face made him realize that would be a waste of breath.

"We're going nice and slow, and you don't do anything. We are moving you. Understand?" Another small nod.

Against his better judgement, Nathan took the first step forward. They made it to the front of the church before Ezra finally let out a small gasp. He tried to choke it off in what he knew was a futile hope that the others wouldn't notice. Closing his eyes, he waited to hear the inevitable chastisements that would follow. He didn't see the look that passed between the two men, or the tilt of Chris's head that signalled they were to continue. Progress was agonizingly slow as they made there way past the livery and onto the street.

The busy midday activity ground to a halt as the sight of the procession stunned the townsfolk. Despite the story that had circulated, none had been able to comprehend just how badly injured Ezra had been. Seeing him being carried, clearly still in distress, left them all thunderstruck, and no doubt silenced many of the remaining critics. When a few indicated an intention to come to assist, Chris waved them off. He knew as difficult as this was for Ezra, it would be worse if he felt he had become the object of the pity of others. He'd been wounded enough without having his pride take another hit.

Mary stood almost paralyzed in her spot in front of the Clarion office, watching the men slowly make there way past the bank, the undertaker and the other shops along the way. Her eyes glistened in a blending of guilt and anger over the role she had played in this. Yes, the town had turned on him, but she knew that was in part based on the trust they had placed in her to report the true facts. If she had stopped to think about what had been said before laying the fabrication out to Chris, maybe things wouldn't have gone so horribly wrong. She had no clue how she was going to do it, but she was going to find some way to try to make this up to Ezra, if he would allow her to.

Just as the trio reached the saloon entrance, Judge Travis came out from the office and he put a hand on Mary's shoulder. "You aren't alone in the blame here. Don't take it all on yourself."

"I started it. I listened to that - witch."

"You played a role, just as she intended you to do. Everyone had a part in this, including Standish. But the blame is on her, and sooner or later justice will find her. One way or another. It usually does. What everyone needs to do now is try to put all of this behind them."

"You can't expect me or this town to forget about what happened. What we did."

She was still staring at the saloon doors that still swayed slightly. He turned her toward him. "Not forget. Never forget. But learn from it. Not just for his sake, but for your own as well."

Ezra looked at the staircase that was the final obstacle between him and the comfort of his own bed. He couldn't imagine making the climb.

"Please." The sound was little more than a whisper, so he tried again. "Please. A moment."

"Be best to just keep moving Ezra. It's not much further."

Nathan's words rang true, but that didn't make it any easier for Ezra to hear them. He honestly feared he would pass out if they didn't stop now but explaining was going to require far more energy than he had to spare. Instead, he resorted to the only thing he could think of, going limp in their grasp.

Neither man had realized how much assistance Ezra had been giving them until he ceased to do so. He suddenly became a dead weight to them, not helping at all in keeping himself upright. Chris hooked a chair with his foot and pulled it close enough that Ezra could be lowered into it. They both kept a firm grip knowing he would slide to the floor otherwise.

"Apologies."

"Don't be stupid Ezra. You got nothing to apologize for." Chris spoke quietly in the hopes of keeping the conversation quiet. Like the scene on the street a few moments earlier, the saloon had gone deathly still when they entered. It was still in that state and Chris wanted to get Ezra into the privacy of his own space as quickly as possible.

"Nathan, you think we can carry him up in the chair."

"NO!" Ezra was mortified at the thought. This, all of this was bad enough. Being paraded through town in nothing more than a sarape, stared at by people who despised him. He was sure they were all smirking at him, thinking how he got what he deserved. Hell, they were probably right. He had always suspected that someday he would be paying the price for the life he'd chosen, or rather the life that had chosen him. But he'd never envisioned this much humiliation would be a part of it. He could tolerate the physical, but this abasement was more that he could stand. "I will not allow that."

"You won't allow it?" Nathan stared at him. What in God's name did he think he could do to stop them? He was about to voice that very question when the stillness of the scene was broken by Josiah's arrival.

"Don't know what possessed you people to try something this foolish, but if you are going to do a job, you best finish it right." He stepped next to the chair and gently lifted Ezra from it, setting him on his feet while supporting all of his weight. "Chris, you take that other spot. Nathan, stay behind us. OK son, we'll do the heavy lifting and your job is to let us. Understood?"

Not only was it futile to argue, it was far too late. Ezra nodded almost imperceptibly as he felt himself being effectively carried the rest of the way to his room. The bedcovers had been pulled back and he was quickly stretched out. JD was already waiting there for them with the medical kit, and Nathan quickly set about repairing the damage Ezra had done.

"Is an audience truly required for this? I promise you I shall not attempt another escape."

"Why'd you try this one?"

Ezra closed his eyes without answering Chris's question.

Josiah could see the issue wasn't over, but this wasn't the time. "Leave it be for now Chris. Let him rest."

"That's what we were doing. Problem with that is it gives him time to think, and I'm getting the feeling he's made his mind up on things without all the facts."

"A lot of that going around lately."

Glaring at Josiah, Chris finally nodded. "Well then, 'bout time we put an end to it."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	20. Chapter 20

Josiah stepped out from the saloon, anxious for some fresh air and the chance to stretch his legs. He hadn't dared to step away from his sentry position at the base of the stairs for fear there might be another escape attempt. It had been agreed that no one would sit watch in Ezra's room. The space was comfortable but on the small side, and they didn't want Ezra to feel they were crowding him – or worse, guarding him. It was only when Nathan came by after his well deserved rest to check on his patient that Josiah felt it was safe to walk away.

He hadn't realized how late it had gotten. Dusk was starting to settle over the town and the shadows darkened the main street. He scanned the area and quickly saw exactly what he had expected to. Chris was once again stationed outside the jail. He seemed to have taken up permanent residency there in the past few days. It was as good a place as any to keep and eye on the various comings and goings Josiah supposed. And it made sense to assume that Chris wasn't about to let himself overlook anything in his town again.

"Any sign of our missing friends?"

Chris shook his head as Josiah approached. "Not yet. Figured they'd be here by now. May have to send JD for them tomorrow morning." He stood up and stepped into the street and the two men started a slow patrol around the town. "Any changes on your watch?"

"He was asleep each time I poked my head in. Or at least was pretending to be."

"Wouldn't have thought you'd be one of the people he'd be avoiding."

With a shrug, Josiah sighed softly. "Who knows what he's thinking right now. All that's happened in the past few days, he likely doesn't know who he can trust anymore."

"I doubt he trusts any of us. Why would he?"

"Just as likely he figures we don't trust him. Soon as he is alert enough one of us needs to have a talk with him."

The stern look he gave told Chris exactly who it was that should be taking point involved in that chat. "You really think he'd listen to me? Believe a word I said?"

"You're the one he's been trying to convince ever since he came here."

That stopped him in his tracks. The thought had never occurred to him. "No."

"Oh yes. Think about it. A man like Ezra wouldn't get a lot of second chances in his life. I imagine he's been run out of more towns than you and I have even been in. You may well be the first person who ever made that kind of offer to him, and something deep inside of him makes him need to show you it was the right call. Don't try to figure it out – I doubt he can even understand why himself. Doesn't mean he's going to give up all his ways, but I think he needs to prove that you made the right call. Whether that's proving it to you or to himself, I honestly can't say."

The pair started walking again, now in silence. Distracted by their thoughts, they didn't even notice riders approaching until the horses were close enough to be heard.

"Well, better late than never. What took you two so long?"

Vin brought Peso to a stop near the men and slipped off. "We planned to leave earlier, but Mrs. Friesen wanted to feed us, and only a fool would pass up one of her meals. Lord, Chris, that woman can cook." He began walking toward the livery and the others followed along.

"How is he?" Buck had remained mounted and was looking down the street toward the church.

"Not there anymore." Concern darkened the features of both men until Josiah clarified his comment. "We ended up moving him back to his room this morning. Or rather Chris and Nathan did after he tried to bolt."

That stopped Vin in his tracks. "Tried to what? He was barely awake when we left, and now he's ready to run?"

"No, not even close. Fell on his ass in the effort. Relax. He didn't do any real damage to himself, and we got him settled back in his place to try to make him feel more at home."

"What the hell did you say to him Chris?"

"Didn't say a damned thing Vin. It sure as hell wasn't my idea."

"No." Buck spoke quietly. "It was mine. I drove him out to begin all this, and he likely figures that's still what people want. You guys have to set him straight on that. Tell him I'm moving on, so he don't have to go anywhere."

Chris had just about had enough of all of this. It was bad enough things went south as fast as they did in the first place. Now, when there should have been some vague sense of hope with Ezra getting better, folks were still fighting and talking stupid. He was done with it. Time to take his town and his team back.

"Nobody is going anywhere. Not you, not Ezra. Nobody. Understood? Tomorrow I am going to sit him down and talk all this out. Make him see that this is done with."

"Doesn't work that way Chris. This time around Ezra is the one who gets to say when this is done." Vin looked over to Buck. "Like I was saying to you earlier, he gets to decide who stays or leaves. Nobody else has the right to make any of those calls but him. All we get to do is hope to God he makes the right ones."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Nathan could hear the voices from the street below. It was good to have everyone back, even if they were fighting amongst themselves. That was probably going to be the case for a while, until things got settled better. When and if that could happen was likely to be up to just one person. He glanced back at Ezra.

"You might be able to fool the others, but I know you're awake Ezra."

Reluctantly, the Southerner opened his eyes. "My apologies. I am not feeling particularly sociable at this time."

"I can understand that. You in pain? Never mind. Stupid question. Let me ask you this – you in any more pain than you were before you took your walk?"

"No."

One word answers were actually the smart move at this point, but so totally out of character that Nathan had to wonder if the answer was the truth, or simply a ploy to get him to leave. Presuming the second option was more likely, he slid the chair over to the bed and resumed his examination. As expected, Ezra balked.

"I said I am feeling fine."

"No, you said you weren't in more pain. But you're still hurt, and I aim to make sure you didn't make things worse. So we can fight about it, or you can just let me do what I came here for."

"And you will leave after?"

He hesitated. "I'd rather not, but if you're going to insist, I'll at least move outside to give you some peace."

Taking Ezra's silence as acceptance, Nathan began checking the stitches and splints. "You got lucky this morning. Could have really messed yourself up trying to leave like that." Not unexpectedly, there was no response. Fine. He'd do the talking for both of them.

"We've all been trying to sort out why that was. Must have been some powerful motivation to get you moving when it woulda hurt like hell to do it."

Still no answer. "My first figuring was that it had to do with that pride of yours. The way you dress, way you talk. You got quite an image you've set for yourself, and you sure wouldn't want anyone to see you not at your best."

He would have given a week's pay to hear Ezra challenge him on that. How could he have ever predicted he'd be missing those smart-assed showy speeches and attitude? He was tempted to get in a few deeper digs in the hopes of riling him up enough to get into the conversation, but at this juncture it was far too likely the comments would be taken to heart in the worst possible way. Maybe his best bet was just the straight-forward approach. If nothing else, it would catch Ezra off guard.

He finished checking the injuries and when he had satisfied himself that everything was as it should be he leaned back in the seat. This was harder than he'd expected, and he wasn't completely sure it was going to come out the way he intended, but he had to make the effort, and there was no time like the present.

"You need to hear me out on this Ezra. I don't have your way with words – don't know anybody who does. So you need to bear with me while I get this out right. Guess it isn't a shock to you if I say you haven't exactly been my favourite person here in town. We got off to a bad start. What you said back then about not riding with me – well it wasn't a surprise, but it still vexed me. No point in pretending otherwise."

Ezra shifted slightly in the bed as if trying to pull away from the discussion. Nathan spoke again quickly before the wrong opinions were formed.

"The thing of it is though, when it was all said and done, you did something I gotta say I never saw coming. You changed. Not a big coming-to-Jesus kinda change, but a change. Asked if I'd be willing to ride with you. Coulda knocked me down just by breathing on me, though I tried not to let it show.

Didn't really stop there though. Since we've all been here, working together, I can't say there has been a time you've disrespected me. Well, least not anymore than you have the others, what with your fancy talk and all. Truth be told, you've moved a lot further than I have. Be'cause, sticking with the truth here, I guess I've got every bit as much prejudice in me as I've been accusing you of."

He paused as he saw Ezra shift again but remain silent.

"I see or hear a white man from the south and my gut just turns over. Before he's said enough for me to know what he's about, I know I can't trust him. Won't trust him. I can give you the excuses for it, and they'd all be sound ones. But they don't give me the right to make judgements based on where a man was born, any more than he'd have the right to do that about me based on my colour. Man can't do anything about those things."

"You had more reason than that." Hallelujah – a response.

"Maybe. But like I said, you've been trying to change, and making a decent showing of it in some ways. I haven't exactly been too open to seeing any of that, and too quick to judge based on those first impressions. Ain't especially pleased to have to say it, but it's gospel."

"The realities of my basic nature are sufficient to substantiate your conclusions Mr. Jackson. You need not apologize for being an astute judge of character."

Nathan tried to hide his frustration. The man gave new definition to stubborn. "This isn't about that Ezra. What I'm trying to say here is I was wrong to assume you were the one lying. That you were the one at fault in all of this. Yeah, you're right. You have a few traits that I find less than honourable, and I can't say as I'd trust you to be holding onto my money for me, or that I don't have my doubts about you and your cards. But one thing I should have realized is that you have a code. Different from mine - hell, different from most people – but it is yours and you stick by it. I don't see that a man who proclaims himself to be a southern gentleman and means it the way you do would be attacking a lady. Not your style. And you are all about style."

Ezra made a half-hearted attempt to smile but found the effort to be more than he was up to yet. "I will assume that somewhere in all of that you intended to be reiterating your apology, and you meant it with all the sincerity you could offer. The effort is appreciated, but unnecessary. What transpired was no more than I have become accustomed to, and no less than I deserve."

Before there was a chance to respond Ezra closed his eyes and shifted himself as much as he was able to, signalling he was done with the discussion. Pushing the matter now would be a pure waste of time and energy, and a exercise in futility. There was nothing left to do but leave the man to his rest.

"This isn't done Ezra. You got a bunch more people waiting to have their say, and sooner or later one of them is going to break through to you."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The sight that greeted him as he made his way downstairs was exactly what he'd been expecting. Amidst the usual crowd of drinkers and card players, four men sat waiting at their usual table, with a spot left open for him to join them. JD wasn't there, but only because he was coming back from the bar laden down with a couple more pitchers of beer for the group, and a glass for Nathan.

"Maybe one of you can get through to him, 'cause I was pretty much just wasting my breath up there." He nodded his thanks to JD for the glass that was set in front of him as he reached for a pitcher. Josiah's hand landed on it first, but he poured it out for the others.

No one spoke for several minutes, each lost to their own thoughts on what to do next. Chris was keeping half an eye focused on Buck, expecting at any moment his friend was going to start up again with talk of leaving town to make things right. It was a stupid decision but convincing him of that wasn't going to be the easiest task he'd ever taken on.

Normalcy. All he wanted was some kind of sign that things might have a chance of getting back to what passed for normal around here. He looked around him and it dawned on him some of that had already started. For one thing, they were all under the same roof again. Granted, Ezra wasn't down here with them, but it was the closest the seven men had been in weeks. Definitely a step in the right direction. He also noticed that despite the fairly full house in the saloon at the moment, one table sat empty. The card players who had taken over Ezra's spot had relinquished it again. They had shifted a few tables over, leaving the gambler's preferred location vacant, waiting for the rightful owner to reclaim his post. It was a small beginning, but it was a beginning.

"You manage to track down his ma?" Vin's question roused Chris from his contemplations.

"Yeah. Sent a telegram back to the last contact we had. Mary helped me figure out how to tell the woman her son was half beat to death. At least we were able to let her know he's mending and the folks who did this paid for it."

"Some of them anyway." Buck muttered without even realizing he was speaking aloud.

Vin chose for the moment to ignore the comment and continued talking to Chris. "You hear back?"

Taking a healthy swig of his beer first, Chris nodded. "Strange. Thanked me for letting her know and said to tell her 'darling boy' she'd try to come to see him as soon as it was convenient."

Buck looked up. "Convenient?"

"That's what she said. She didn't even ask me to keep her informed."

"I do have the impression from what we have learned in recent days that Maude Standish is a unique and intriguing woman."

"Could be Josiah, but I can't help feel she's nothing but trouble as well."

Conversation ebbed again and the table fell silent. No one else in the saloon dared to approach, reading the mood all to easily. One by one, tables around them emptied as the hour grew later. Closing time was approaching, but the job of asking the group to leave was a task for which no one wanted to volunteer.

It was Nathan who finally started the exodus, standing slowly and stretching himself out. "Been a long day, and I have a feeling tomorrow might be just as bad. I know you all want to talk to him, but you need to take it slow. What happened today set him back some, and I won't have anybody making things even worse by getting him riled." He was speaking to the group, but his gaze shifted between Chris and Buck. It was the latter who spoke first.

"I won't be bothering him. If and when he wants to deal with me, I'll let him set the time."

"Two of you are going to have to talk, no matter who starts it up. But for now, Nathan's right. Rest of you need to stay away until I can set him straight on how this is going to play out."

Vin didn't care for the sound of that. He'd been looking forward to seeing the improvement and making sure Ezra was doing as well as they claimed. "You can't order him to stay. Thought we talked about this."

Chris stood to leave as well, and the others did the same. "Not what I meant. I just want to make sure he understands how we all feel about all of this. Josiah seems to think I am the right man for the job. Not sure I agree, but don't see much choice."

He wasn't sure he agreed either, but Vin looked at Josiah, who simply nodded his reply. Knowing there wasn't anything he could do to change things he gave Chris a long look. "Don't mess this up Chris. I don't imagine he'll give us another chance."

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_tbc_


	21. Chapter 21

The faint sounds of daily activities wafted up from the street below, muffled considerably by the closed window and drawn drapes in Ezra's room. Chris wasn't surprised by how dark the space was, even as the sun shone brightly outside. Morning and Ezra weren't exactly on the best of terms, and anything that could be done to ensure his sleep remained undisturbed was well worth the effort. In this case, that meant a room facing west, a double layer of curtains and keeping the window closed.

Despite the valiant effort, enough light came in that Chris could see his way around, even if he couldn't get a good look at Ezra. After a brief internal debate, he decided against opening the curtains, choosing instead to light the oil lamp and turn it up. The reaction from Ezra was little more than a turn of the head and a soft grunt of frustration, but he didn't voice his objection. Taking that as a small victory, Chris shifted the chair toward the bed, but kept a respectful distance.

"How you feeling this morning?"

"As to be expected given the situation. If that was the intention of your invasion of my privacy, you may depart and leave me to my slumber."

Well, he was back in fine form. This wasn't starting well.

"Little more to it than that Ezra, and before you try to find another excuse, Nathan did say you doing well enough for us to have a talk. Or at least for me to talk and you to listen."

"Far be it from be to question Mr. Jackson's assessment of my capability. Lord knows, the man has always had my best interests at heart."

Fighting the almost overwhelming temptation to defend Nathan, Chris instead chose to sit quietly until Ezra was ready to speak again. He should have known better. He was good at waiting, but he was the amateur in the room. One of the first skills a decent gambler develops is patience, and Ezra had long ago risen miles beyond the level of being merely decent. When the need was there, he could wait indefinitely for the right opening, because he knew from experience it would eventually appear.

Exactly how much time had passed was impossible to judge. Chris had almost decided Ezra was sleeping again, or at the very least pretending to. This kind of crazy was outside his range of experience and he was quickly reaching his breaking point. Losing his temper was bound to backfire, so he took a calming breath that only marginally achieved its goal and leaned forward.

"Things went bad Ezra. 'Bout as bad as anything I've seen in a while. Question is now, how do we fix them?"

"There are some mistakes, Mr. Larabee, that can never be fixed. Some things that, when broken, are shattered beyond restoration."

Yeah, this was definitely not going the way he had hoped. Expected – yes, but not hoped.

"And you figure that's where we stand now? Shattered?"

Ezra closed his eyes, willing this to be over. Why would Larabee be putting him through this? A simple 'get out as soon as you're ready to travel' was all he needed to say. The message had already been made clear to him the day he'd come back to town and saw his world collapse around him. Everything since then had merely reinforced that. Was that the point of this? To make sure he knew he was only here by their forbearance, and that his reprieve was fleeting?

"I can assure you Mr. Larabee that when I am able to travel again I shall leave Four Corners with nothing more than I brought in, and with no intention of darkening it's streets again. Does that satisfy your requirements? Are we quite done?"

"Hold up. You think we still want you gone?"

"Your opinions on the question were made abundantly clear."

Son of a bitch. "Damn it Ezra, that ain't it at all. When I said things went bad, I didn't mean it was something you did."

"It is always something I did Mr. Larabee. I am painfully cognisant of that truth."

Chris needed to start this whole conversation over. He could only hope Ezra would listen.

"I read your letter." Maybe that would be the gambit needed to turn things around. "Wish I'd read it before you left. Or better yet, listened when you tried to tell me."

Cautiously, Ezra opened one eye and risked a glance in Chris's direction. He looked and sounded sincere, but the words didn't match the reality that he was feeling.

"And you no doubt found cause to question every aspect of the contents."

"If I had, we wouldn't have caught the bastards who did this to you when they tried to pull their little game."

"Caught? They are incarcerated?"

"Misspoke there. No, not caught. They didn't exactly survive their attempt. Vin and Josiah saw to that."

So he hadn't imagined it. He had a dim recollection of being told his attackers had been dealt with but assumed that was little more than an hallucination sparked by wishful thinking on his part. Knowing now that it was true sent a wave of relief through him, followed by an unexpected pang of concern that he didn't fully understand himself.

"All of them?"

Chris wasn't sure how Ezra was going to react to his answer. "No. Not all of them. She wasn't with them when they tried to take the stage and was gone when we got back to town. No idea where she's ended up."

Of course. Annabella was far to wily to let herself get involved in anything as mess as a stage robbery. In fact, that sort of activity wasn't what he would have expected of her at all. She generally preferred a more circumspect effort, with less flash to its final step. On the other hand, it was now painfully obvious – literally – that she wasn't the partner in crime he had known and cared about in his younger days.

"Has Mr. Wilmington gone after her?"

"Wanted to, but we managed to keep him from riding out."

Yes, of course he would want to. Her gift for manipulation, for ensuring the men she used continued to have protective and even romantic feelings after was a large part of her success. "She has that effect on men. Once under her spell, they are ensnared like the fly in the web."

Clearly, Chris was going to have to be more direct when he spoke. Ezra was either still not up to par, or he was being deliberately obtuse about the way things were playing out. Either way, matters were not getting resolved.

"No. He wanted to go after her and, I hope, bring her back here to stand trial. That's the best case. More likely he would have shot her on the spot for what she did."

That did make more sense. Men like Buck Wilmington took a great deal of pride in their handling of the fairer sex. Being humiliated by a woman would definitely have been a blow to his ego, and vengeance was not an unexpected reaction. Although such a severe response was a bit much.

"I doubt even Mr. Wilmington would kill a woman for embarrassing him."

"Damn it Ezra, those blows to your head musta done more harm than Nathan thought. He was going after her because of what she did to you. The lies, the getting you kicked outta town. The beating. That was what riled him. That and his part in it."

"Ludicrous."

"Ludicrous? Ezra, what the hell is the matter with you?"

He'd had enough of this game. "I am not a fool Mr. Larabee. I know what you think of me, what this town thinks of me. And you expect me to believe for a moment that despite that, Mr. Wilmington would seek retribution on my behalf? That any of you would?" His chest tightened but he ignored it as he strained to continue. "You all desire nothing more than to have me gone from your presence. Gone from this town. I'm sure you profoundly and genuinely regret the day you walked into that saloon and ever saw me. I know I do."

He was gasping as he finished and sending Chris into a mild panic. Nathan was going to kill him if he'd caused Ezra to take a turn for the worse. "Steady Ezra. Here, drink this."

Ezra swung out, sending the water glass flying from Chris's hand. "Go. Leave me." He turned as much onto his side as he could, refusing to acknowledge the pain that shot through him as a result.

"I'm just going to get Nathan. We ain't done here Ezra, and I don't care how long it takes me, I am going to get the truth through that thick skull of yours."

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"How riled up is he?" Nathan was reaching for his bag of herbs, along with a suture set. If Ezra had been moving around he might well have pulled things open again.

"You won't need that. He's pissed more than anything, but I'm not entirely sure if he's madder at us or himself. Seems he still figures we figure he's the one to blame and I didn't do much of a job convincing him otherwise."

"Told you not to mess this up Chris." Vin stood in the doorway, with Buck a few feet behind. They had seen the speed with which Chris headed up the stairs to the clinic and knew things hadn't gone exactly to plan.

"Wasn't like I was trying to. Honest to God, I don't know anyone as stubborn as that man is."

"You never looked in a mirror?" Nathan headed towards the door. "I'm gonna try to get some tea into him so he can get more rest. From what you just said though, I doubt he'll be too cooperative."

Vin took the herb mix from him. "I got this. I shoulda gone over in the first place." He turned and headed out before anyone could voice any further opinions on the matter. Not that it would have stopped him.

He knocked lightly on the door to Ezra's room. "Mind if I come in Pard."

"What I do or do not wish seems to be of no consequence therefore you may as well act as you please."

Vin closed the door behind him. "Well, I think that was a _yes, come in_, so I'll take it that way." He set the cup down on the small bedside table. "That's a might hot right now. Kettle was boiling away downstairs, so you best let it sit for a few minutes."

"It can sit there until sunset; I have no intention of partaking of any further potions of Mr. Jackson's creation.

"Can't say as I blame you on that. They are a might nasty tasting. Even when they've been laced with some decent whiskey."

Ezra hazarded a glance at the mug, now slightly tempted to consider a sip. "No, thank you. The heat would have had a devastating affect."

"Why do you think I suggested you wait to let it cool some." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small waterskin. "Probably not up to your usual standards, but it'll do in a pinch."

It was assuredly not going to be up to his criteria, and he was about to suggest using some of his personal stash when he released his belongings were long gone, either stolen or lost. At that moment another thought struck him for the first time and he abruptly tried to sit up. He cried out at the sudden pain but didn't let it stop his effort.

"Ez, what the hell do you think you're doing? For God's sake, lie back."

"Chaucer! What became of Chaucer?" How could he have gone this long without asking?

"He's fine Ezra. Just fine. He's out at the Friesen place. Long story for another time. We didn't want to bring him back till we were sure things were alright here."

Ezra studied Vin's face, looking for a sign of deception. Seeing none, he surrendered to the suffering he had brought on himself and fell back again. Vin reached for the tea, but Ezra shook his head.

"No. Spiked or not, I have no desire to partake of that substance."

"It'd make you feel better but suit yourself."

"It would make me feel nothing, and that is not a state I am comfortable with. Since I have made it impossible for you to complete your mission you might as well divest yourself of the responsibility of caregiver and leave me in peace."

"Nah. I kinda like it in here. Quiet. And this chair is a lot more comfortable than sitting on that stool at the church, or them pews."

"How would you know?" Ezra snapped the question out, immediately regretting the fact. He had no desire to carry on a lengthy conversation.

The reaction left Vin at a loss. "What do you mean? Parked myself on that stool long enough I'm surprised I could get up."

He supposed that made some sense. Nathan couldn't have been the only one watching over him throughout the early days of his recovery, so the others must have had rotating duty.

"Well, you are relieved on any such responsibilities now, so please, feel free to depart and leave me to my solitude."

"Wasn't there because it was a responsibility Ezra. I was there 'cause I was worried about you."

"Evidence to the contrary."

Apparently this was at least a part of what was bothering Ezra, although for the life of him, Vin couldn't begin to understand the problem.

"Just what kind of evidence are you talkin' about?"

Ezra huffed softly. He should never have allowed himself to be led into this discussion. This entire ordeal had severely weakened not only his body, but his defenses as well. Otherwise he would not be finding it so challenging to keep control of the conversation.

He didn't bother to hide the fatigue when he spoke. "None of this matters Mr. Tanner. Please, go about your regular business. You have made your perfunctory appearance and can go back to excluding me from your routine."

"Well, perfunctory I don't get, but I haven't been excluding you from anything. Damn it Ezra, I haven't been ignoring you – I've been outta town. Been taking care of a debt we owed and before you ask, yes it was that important."

It was an illogical and incomplete explanation. "And one presumes the others were all with you in this endeavour?"

Now he understood, and quietly cursed out Chris under his breath for not explaining things to Ezra. Not that all the blame was there. He should have let Ezra know he was leaving and made sure that was the first stop he made on getting back. It was time for a full explanation, and it would have to be quick and to the point.

"You need your rest, but you need this more. Me and Buck were out helping out the man you found you hurt and brought you back to town. Chris and JD and Josiah have been trying to keep the peace here, which I'm guessing is why they weren't as focused on you as they should have been. As for what's been happening while you been getting better – well, it's a mess, but starting to work out. Anybody tell you about the robbery?"

Ezra nodded distractedly. He was trying to remember who had come to his rescue but had no recollection of the event. Between the time he was beaten and when he woke up in the church his mind was a complete blank. Vin waited patiently until he had Ezra's attention again.

"You don't need to fuss on the details now. We'll fill you in when you're stronger. There are a couple things for you to think on though. First, whatever idea you have in your head about not being wanted here is wrong."

"On the contrary, I heard it clearly and from multiple sources on a number of occasions. It is why I left, and why I shall do so again."

"Not denying you were run out, and like I said, that's a talk for another time. But nobody's been saying it since you came back."

"Everyone has. I lost count of the number of times all of you gentlemen expressed your desire that I would heal sufficiently that you could get me out of town. You deny it?"

Under other circumstance, Vin might have laughed. It was truly astonishing how Ezra take concerned comments and turn them into venomous attacks. That said a great deal about the life he had lead.

"I don't deny it, but I sure as hell am going to correct it. We didn't want you out of town Ezra, just out of the church. We all wanted you to be well enough that we could get you somewhere proper to finish healing up."

It was like watching Ezra checking his hand when he first picked up the cards. You knew there were a million thoughts running through his head – what angles to play, what bluffs to run, how much he should bet, and how soon. But none of that played on his face. Only the concentration of an expert at work. That was the same face Vin saw now as Ezra examined what had been said with that same intensity, looking for a weakness he could exploit to his advantage. Vin knew there was none to be found, but that wouldn't stop Ezra from creating one.

"I said there were a couple of things, so here's the second. There are a whole lot of folks here in town who feel mighty shitty about the way they treated you, and it's been all Chris can do to keep them from coming in to tell you. I won't insult you by saying everyone is feeling that way, but a lot are. So right now, you need to work at getting rest and getting better. I don't think we're gonna be able to keep some of them away much longer."

Vin stood without giving Ezra a chance to respond, which was a good thing, since he had no idea how to respond. Had he really misinterpreted everything? Had he been that wrong about all of this? No. He shook his head without being aware of the action. Not everything. He was certain about how it started. What was left now was to figure out how it would end.

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_tbc_


	22. Chapter 22

Ezra was grateful that Vin had kept his word about keeping most people away for the day, although apparently that didn't apply to everyone. Hardly any time had passed before Josiah was tapping at the door and entering without waiting for permission.

"You are looking a sight better than when we settled you in here. Guess a bit of familiar home comfort was what you were missing."

"A sparse,leased chamber above a tavern scarcely qualifies as home for anyone, and comfort is at best a subjective term which fails miserably as an apt description of this situation."

Josiah chuckled lightly. "Sounds like your doing better as well. Oh, don't get that pinched up look to you Ezra. I know you need your rest, and I won't be bothering you for but a minute. Seems though that you have been labouring under some false assumptions, and that won't do."

"I see Mr. Tanner has been swift in discriminating the nature of our discussion."

"He's worried about you. We all are."

Ezra snorted in a most uncharacteristic manner and it caught Josiah so totally off guard it took a moment for him to continue.

"We can't force you to accept the truth Ezra. We can try, but if you don't want to there's not much we can do except work at proving it to you. While you were at the church barely a minute went by when one of us wasn't with you. And since you've been awake, we've been doing the same when we were around. You never saw me 'cause you were sleeping like a baby every time I came by."

"How convenient for you."

He had promised himself, and the others, he wouldn't lose his patience, but Ezra was sorely testing that commitment. "Like I said Ezra, can't force you to believe me. Until you lay to rest those demons inside you that keep telling you that you don't deserve to be happy you just won't be able to accept friendship when it's offered. That's a fight you have to win on your own, but that doesn't mean we aren't gonna be propping you up and rooting for you." Josiah stood and headed to the door. "You want anything before I leave?"

There was a barely noticeable shake of the head. Sighing, Josiah pulled the door closed behind him, wondering if he had made things even a little better, or possibly considerably worse.

The rest of the day passed with Ezra getting very little of the much needed rest. Part of the blame rested in the interruptions. Contrary to what he had anticipated, he hadn't been left on his own. Nathan kept checking in on him, although few words were spoken. Ezra wasn't in the mood, and Nathan figured he'd said all he could already.

JD, on the other hand, could hardly stop talking when he came by. Ezra tried briefly to reassure him that no words were needed. After all, he had been the only one to express anything even remotely supportive when Ezra had left town – a show of support and friendship that had both surprised and heartened the gambler.

The young man's concerns went beyond just his own part in this. "The others all feel bad about this Ezra. Chris thinks he should have listened, and Nathan says he shouldn't have been so fast to judge. Even Vin and Josiah are feelin' bad about not being here when everything happened. And Buck – hell, I've never seen Buck so down about anything. Even Chris says so, and he's known him forever. Things just aren't the same in town without you around Ezra. It's just not as much fun. Of course, people aren't losing as much of their money at poker, but some of us ain't even happy about that. Guess we're all a bit loco. Ezra? Ezra? You awake?"

Closing his eyes and snoring lightly was the only escape option he'd been able to think of. He had a hint of remorse (an feeling with which he had only a passing acquaintance) about conning JD but rationalized it as being for the good of his health. Hearing the door close a moment later Ezra risked opening one eye. Ah, the blissful silence of solitude.

During the frequent periods he wasn't wrapped in the arms of Morpheus, he was distracting himself trying to sort out what he thought he knew to be true and what the others tried to convince him reality was. He didn't generally enjoy being left alone to his thoughts. It was fine when he had plotting and scheming to work on, or immediately after a profitable venture, but as a rule dwelling on reality rarely tended to be an enriching activity. And when nothing he was trying cope with made any kind of sense to him, the experience was just so much worse.

The scenario being presented to him served only to add to his confusion. Could it really be that these people were ready to forgive him? Or, more accurately and even harder to fathom, didn't feel he had done anything that needed to be forgiven? Well, didn't do what they had accused him of anyway. Try as he might, he hadn't been able to detect a false tone in any of the discussions. As difficult as it was for him to wrap his mind around the notion that they were all sincere, he was slowly coming to the conclusion that there was no other explanation.

Gratifying, and bewildering, as that was, it didn't solve the bigger problem. There was one member of their ensemble who clearly had not forgiven him for his role in helping to create the vixen that stirred all the trouble. And why should he?

Ezra was well aware from personal experience how beguiling and tempting Annabella could be. When she turned on that charm she was essentially impossible to resist, and she knew it. Her natural talents had been augmented by the education she got from the Standish mother and son team, making her a truly formidable force to be reckoned with. And she had used that power to manipulate and destroy Buck. Public humiliation aside, the genuine hurt was going to take some time to get past, if he ever fully did. If the tables were turned, and Buck been responsible for causing him that much pain Ezra knew he would feel the same anger and resentment. Anyone would.

Ezra shifted in his bed again. The restlessness and discomfort weren't entirely due to the assortment of healing injuries. This sensation was a rare phenomenon in his life. There had been at best a handful of times that he had experienced these feelings. The physical expressions were bad enough; the tension in his muscles, churning in his stomach, dull throbbing of a headache. But more powerful were the intangible manifestations. Unease, dread, agitation. As bizarre a concept as it was, there was only one explanation he could come up with; he was suffering from a guilty conscience.

How many times had he pulled cons like this one where he was playing with emotions and charming his victims, only to be long gone by the time his duplicity was discovered? Avoiding all the unpleasant aftermath of the damage he had done.

"Honestly Standish," he rebuked himself, "it isn't as if you weren't aware of the trail of destruction you have left in your wake. Stop being foolish – this is no different."

But it was different, and to deny it was futile. The only person he would be conning was himself – not for the first time in his life.

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Buck stood at the foot of the stairs looking up. He figured he'd been there a good ten minutes by now, maybe more. How long would it take, he wondered, until someone came over to find out what the hell he thought he was doing? He knew he was being watched. There were plenty of patrons who had to be curious about what was going on, although most could probably make a decent guess at the answer. JD and Vin certainly had been keeping their eyes on him as well. Neither was particularly subtle about either.

It was only a few steps, then a short walk down the hallway. He could cover the space in a matter of seconds and get down to taking care of what needed to be done. If only he knew what that was.

No. That wasn't it. He knew what he needed to do; he just had no idea how to go about it. How do you apologize to a man you damn near got killed because you just weren't thinking straight? How do you ask him to even consider forgiving you after you threatened to kill him yourself? Drew on him for God's sake? How do you even start?

"If you're waiting for him to come down here, you'll be a while."

Buck didn't react to Chris's words. He didn't know how to do that either.

"He needs you to go up there Buck, but not for the reason you're stewing about."

"Figure I should wait 'til he's strong enough to take a swing at me, at the very least. Seems kinda mean to give him the target when he ain't up to taking advantage of it."

"You think that's what he wants?"

He shrugged. "It's what I'd do."

"In case you hadn't noticed, he's not exactly like us."

There was no denying that. "So he'll find another way to balance this out. He sure has hell has that right."

Chris moved from behind Buck, turning him in the process to be able to look him in the eye. God, he hated dealing with stubborn people. Especially when they were being this thick headed.

"He doesn't blame you Buck. Said he'd have done the same in your place. See, he figures he doesn't deserve to have us trust him, even though at the same time he seems to be trying to give us a reason to."

"That's crazy."

"That's Ezra."

Buck stared at him for a moment before looking back up the stairs. "No. That doesn't make sense Chris. I gotta find a way to make him understand all of this."

"If he does, he'll be the only one who can say that. I don't get it. I still can't quite figure how we all messed this whole thing up so bad, but we did. That's all of us. So, march your ass up there and talk to him. Things won't get better overnight, but we gotta start some time."

Swallowing hard, Buck nodded and slowly began his mission.

He stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath in before knocking lightly and entering.

"Mind if I come in for a minute Ezra?"

Yes, very much. Ezra did not feel up to this discussion today. He'd had enough talk to last him for some time from the others. And he hadn't come close to resolving the question of what he was going to say to Buck. But instead of saying any of that, he weakly waved his guest in.

"Please, take a seat Mr. Wilmington."

Buck hesitated. He didn't really want to sit down. That made this all feel too casual. Too friendly. At the same time, he didn't want to say or do anything that might make Ezra feel his wishes or feelings were being ignored. Damn, he was really no good at this kind of thing.

"Of course, if you prefer not to remain, I absolutely understand. You have completed your obligatory to review of my status. That was a generous gesture under the circumstances, and it would be unreasonable of me to expect anything beyond that."

"That's not why I was hesitating Ezra. Damn, for someone who's not supposed to be talking you sure can flap your gums." He spun the chair around and straddled the seat. "Why don't you just let me do the talking for a bit?"

When he got no response, he took it as acceptance. "First thing I guess is to explain why I haven't been comin' around in the last few days."

"Mr. Tanner informed me that you and he were out of town."

"Yeah. We were kinda finding a way to say thanks to someone who did us a big favour."

"Noble."

Buck fidgeted in his seat. The moment had come. "Ezra, I got no right to ask you to make things easy for me, but this would go a lot quicker if you would just let me say what I came in here to say."

"Allow me to spare you this arduous task. As soon as I am able to travel, I will be leaving Four Corners. While none of the others have demanded I take such action I am certain their restraint was as a courtesy, to allow you to issue the edict."

Something didn't sound right there, and it took Buck a moment to sort out what was off.

"Why the hell would we be asking you to leave?"

"I would have thought that was self-evident."

Oh, God. Chris was right. Frustration drove Buck to his feet as he paced to control the exasperation. "This isn't your fault. It's mine. Ours."

No response came. He paused his prowling and stood staring out the window, searching for something to say that could break through the barricade. It was clear that Ezra wasn't going to accept the possibility that others were to blame for all of this no matter how obvious that fact was to everyone else.

"Why Ezra? When we are the ones who turned our backs on you, why in God's name do you figure this is on you?"

"Do you read books Mr. Wilmington? I don't believe I have ever seen you with one."

The non-sequitur threw him. "Uh – no. Not much. JD likes them adventures, but I've never really cared for wasting my time that way."

"That is a shame. There are many excellent stories and valuable lessons that can be found on the pages. Had you ever had the opportunity to enjoy a novel entitled Frankenstein it might have spared us this discussion."

"Ezra, I get that you are way smarter than me – hell, than any of us, but just this once can you try to dumb it down for me?"

"No, Mr. Wilmington. Never mistake education for intelligence. I do not deny my more extensive for vocabulary and knowledge of matters ranging from mundane to esoteric, but I can assure you I am decidedly not smarter than any of you." It was his turn to wait for a response but when Buck failed to provide one, he returned to his literary allusion.

"Like the title character of the book, I too created – or at a minimum played a significant role in the creation of – a monster. Granted, one with considerably more charm and appeal, but a monster, nevertheless. And like Dr. Frankenstein, I have paid the price for my hubris."

"Plain English Ezra."

"Clarice Foster was my creation as much as it was Annabella's. And it is entirely probable that information on how to manipulate you and the others came, albeit indirectly, from me. In other words – in plain words Mr. Wilmington - the blame for everything that has happened here can be placed directly at my feet."

"With all due respect, that is the biggest load of bullshit I have heard in a long time. Seriously Ezra, what is the matter with you?" He held up a hand to stop the inevitably self-deprecating response. "You put on this show of being arrogant and confident and cocky as all get out, but this is the real you? I don't buy your spin on this."

"Your acceptance of the truth-"

"What truth Ezra? Only truth I see here is that a bunch of folks who are supposed to be upholding the law and doing what was right instead basically acted as judge and jury on you without letting you have a say. I came within five seconds of adding executioner to that."

This wasn't getting the job done and the temptation to walk out before he made things worse was almost irresistible. The fact that Chris, Vin and likely the rest of the team would all be downstairs and would kick his ass if he tried that was only one of the reasons he moved the chair back to the bed and sat down again.

"OK, let's try this again. We knew you were no saint when we drew you into this strange little group. None of us were. And the fact that you have things in your past that you ain't all that proud of is not news. We all have some."

"But there is the first error in your argument Mr. Wilmington. I have always taken a great deal of pride in my past. When it come to being unscrupulous, duplicitous and just basically underhanded, I have excelled. A fact I have always found gratifying."

"Until now. If you still felt like that, we wouldn't be talking like this. You'd be letting me try to apologize for being such a total jackass. I'd say that means you aren't the man you thought you were. Or that we thought you were."

Settling his head deeper into the pillows, Ezra closed his eyes. He was tired of all of this. He simply did not have the stamina to deal with it any longer. Between the pain, the lectures, and the overwhelming confusion, he didn't think he could take any more.

"I shouldn't be pushing you this hard. You get some rest and we can talk about this more later." He stood but didn't leave. "I know you don't think I need to say this, but I do. I never should have let myself get suckered like that. I was a damned fool, losing my sense over a woman. You and the rest of the guys deserve better than that. Like to be able to promise you it won't happen again, but truth is I can't always help myself when a pretty filly bats her eyes like that. So I will probably be stupid again. But I can guarantee you I won't be this kind of stupid. Whether you want to believe it or not, you deserve better than that from me. I'm gonna do my best to see you get it from now on."

Ezra didn't open his eyes until he heard the door close. His head was spinning in a whirlwind of turmoil and uncertainty. The last piece had fallen into place and the resulting image was diametrically opposite to all he had envisioned. Instead of ostracization he was being invited to stay. More than invited – encouraged. How had he so thoroughly misread the situation?

It all left him with only one conclusion, incredulous as it was. Josiah had been accurate in his assessment. He was incapable of accepting the idea he was worthy of having friends. He'd never really learned how to. Friends were just people you hadn't yet taken unfair advantage of. It was a maxim that mother swore by. "_People don't really like people Ezra; they simply need others around to use. If you want to win, you make sure you use them before they can use you_." The veracity of the assessment had been proven time after time in his experience, and the belief became ingrained in his nature.

Even this group he now found himself in was the same. He was drafted into the ensemble because he had a skill they needed, nothing more. His mastery of the art of deception was why they kept him around, and the moment he became a detriment to the team, he was unceremoniously ousted from their ranks. As was to be expected. Except it didn't end there.

To a man, they now wanted him to stay. Wanted to try to make this work again. Even more astounding to him was the recognition that he wanted that too. Casting his gaze around the room, a faint smile came to him. He was going to need to win some extra spending money as soon has he was able to sit at the tables again. A few accoutrements were needed if this room was to become his home.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	23. Chapter 23

Gazing out the window, Ezra was pleased to see there was just enough activity on the street to ensure he wouldn't stand out in the crowd. Well, not any more than he usually did anyway. Any gentleman wearing a well tailored red jacket, gambler's hat and carrying a cane was going to be a bit distinctive in town. And as much as he wanted to keep a fairly low profile to incurring Nathan's wrath, he needed the people of Four Corners to see he was back with the same polish and presence he had always had.

Dressing for today's escape had been a more time consuming process than he'd anticipated. And more tiring. He abandoned the idea of the waistcoat after discovering how difficult it was to not just put on a shirt, but button it as well. His hands and broken fingers were healing well, but not yet as nimble as they had been. Repeating the process for jacket would be enough effort for one day. He'd considered just draping the jacket over his shoulders to help camouflage the sling he still had to use, but he didn't care for the look. And it was unlikely it would rest in place given his still uneven gait and the need for the cane.

He really didn't like the cane at all. It had no style, no flair. Little more that a polished stick. But it was sturdy, and unfortunately that was the most important criteria right now. He looked at it with a sneer of contempt, vowing to himself he'd order a proper walking stick to have on hand in the event he needed one again. He had the unsettling certainty that he would.

A last look in the mirror to determine everything was in place. It was good to see a clean shaven face looking back at him again. Even once the bruising and swelling had disappeared, he was just to shaky to shave himself. JD had offered to help, but the mere thought of that sent chills through him. He finally, with only modest trepidation, agreed to allow Josiah to undertake the task, and had been unexpectedly pleased by the result.

He smiled broadly, carefully shifting his jaw side to side to loosen the tension he still could feel, as he reached for his hat, spinning it in his hands as he opened the door. He froze at the sight of what waited for him.

Vin casually pushed himself off the wall across from Ezra's room. "You really didn't think we hadn't figured on this, did you? Agreeing to letting Josiah near you with a razor? Asking when Nathan was next out of town on patrol? Pacing around the room with that cane trying to get the feel of it? We ain't stupid Ez."

"My ability to obfuscate my intentions clearly has deteriorated from lack of use. I shall have to hone that skill again." He glanced longingly down the hall toward the stairs. "Am I to presume you are the sentinel for my incarceration?"

Vin grinned. "No. I'm your minder to make sure you don't go ass over teakettle on the way down those stairs." His voice took on a more concerned tone. "Seriously Pard. You need to take things slow. Been a long time healing and you can't expect to just walk outta here like everything's back to normal."

"Trust me Mr. Tanner. I am fully aware of the effects three weeks of inactivity has had on my physical abilities. I have no desire to have Mr. Jackson order a further extension on my confinement to these chambers and shall take every reasonable precaution to forestall such an outcome."

Satisfied, Vin took a step back to clear the way for Ezra.

By the time he had made it to the saloon, Ezra was almost ready to call it a day. Muscles that hadn't been tested for ages were now voicing strenuous objections to being brought back into use. Despite the healing that had happened, even simple exertion made breathing more difficult. All in all, he was questioning the wisdom of his decision. Then his attention was drawn to the door as a customer entered.

The outside world was beckoning. A soft breeze could be felt as the door swung wide. It was a perfect day. The sky was as blue as it could be, with just a few large fluffy white clouds to add texture to the sky. It had warmed enough in the last few days to remind him just a bit about his days in the south. It was a good feeling.

Vin had noted the fatigue that had come on so quickly for Ezra, and knew the man was warring with himself about whether to continue his outing. It was hard to fight the urge to tell him what to do, but he held back on his comments, knowing Ezra needed to handle matters in his own time, and his own way. Despite the fact he had finally seemed to accept their apologies and agree to leave this entire horrid incident behind, there was still some sense of hesitation and uncertainty from the southerner.

During one of their conversations, when Ezra was just a little too tired to keep his privacy barriers up, he had admitted to remaining dubious about his acceptance in town. Vin didn't bother to talk him out of his concerns. It would have done no good. The only way Ezra was going to feel at ease in town was by living there again. Actions were far most trustworthy than any speech could be.

He finally gave into his inclinations and nudged Ezra gently toward the door. "Go on out there. You got a perfect afternoon to enjoy ahead of you. Just take your time about things. Unless you want to prove yourself right and have Nathan lock you in your room for another week to heal up again."

Ezra responded with a dramatic shudder, followed by a wide smile.

"Oh, one more thing. I got a few things that belong to you. First, there's some cash." Vin handed over the money he had taken from Harlan's body. Ezra grinned.

"Excellent. Sufficient funds to initiate a poker game later this evening."

Vin then reached into a different pocket and pulled out two items. "Been meaning to get these back to you as well." He handed over the watch and ring. Ezra's eyes lit up. He hadn't expected to see these again and had been quietly lamenting their loss. Few things had sentimental value to him, but these did. Having them back made him feel just a little bit more complete. He strode toward the door, placing his hat on his head before turning and offering Vin a quick salute as he stepped outside.

He took only a few steps before stopping to scan the street, relishing the moment. It all felt right. The familiar faces, the landmarks he had come to know. The feel of the town was comfortable. It wasn't something he had experienced often, and he found he quite enjoyed the sensation. He could only speculate on how long such a feeling might last, but for now, he was ready to believe he could call this home. The next few minutes would help him determine whether or not that was just wishful thinking.

Still not entirely sure what to expect, he started his careful promenade. His first stop was going to be the livery stables. The men had reassured him Chaucer was none the worse for his time away and he had been able to see Vin and JD exercising him. But until he was face to face, he wasn't going to be convinced.

He'd barely made it twenty steps when the first interruption came. Mrs. Potter called out from the entrance to her store across the street. "Mr. Standish. Good to see you out. I have some peach preserves in stock for you when you feel up to coming by."

He carefully waved his hand back in response, paying attention to not losing his balance with the effort. Why would she have those? He hadn't asked her to order those for him, although the thought of the sweet taste was enough to make his mouth water. He promised himself he'd pop in on his way back for the treat.

There were no other conversations as he made his way to the stables. Several people passed by, most nodding their greeting or uttering as simple 'Good day'. A few ignored him. Still, it was better than he had feared. No one appeared to be openly hostile, which was a success as far as he was concerned.

When he noted the stalls were empty, he made his way to the corral behind the building. Several horses roamed the area in a slow, carefree manner, paying little heed to the world around them. His appearance changed that for one. Chaucer's nostrils flared and his head came up when he heard the familiar whistle from his human. He cantered over to the railing and reached his head across to greet his friend.

"Yes Chaucer, I have missed you too. It will be a while yet before we can ride together again, but the time will come." Reaching into his pocket he retrieved a couple of the peppermint treats he always kept on hand. Chaucer gently took them, and then nuzzled at him, hoping for more. "Well, some things never change, do they _mon ami_? You have had enough for the moment." He negated the comment by offering a few more.

For the next several minutes the two simply stood near each other, enjoying the chance to reconnect. Finally, reluctantly, Ezra took a step back. "I fear I lack the stamina to spend the afternoon here with you today. You will have to continue to allow the others to care for you for a bit longer, but rest assured I will be back to visit soon, and on a far more frequent basis."

Ignoring the whinnying was difficult, but Ezra knew he had to move on. He was already wondering if he was going to be able to make it back the short distance to the saloon, or if he should consider going to the church to rest for a bit first. Of course Josiah would be there, and that would result in a report to Nathan about just how badly out of shape he'd become. He didn't want to consider the ramifications of such a disclosure, so he steeled himself for the walk home and slowly set off.

Despite the temptation, he passed straight by Mrs. Potter's shop. That detour, minor as it might be, was beyond him. Throw in the fact he would be required to undertake small talk and keep up the pretense of feeling fine, and even the thought of going in became exhausting. He had almost cleared the front of the store when the door opened.

"Mr. Standish."

He gritted his teeth to keep the sigh to himself and the exhaustion from his voice, before turning back, forcing a smile to his face as he did. "Mrs. Potter. Lovely day, isn't it."

"Now don't you go putting on a show for me. I can only guess at how tired you must feel so I won't be keeping you. I'll have one of the children take a jar of those preserves over to you a bit later, and you can have a bit of a treat with your dinner later. Have to eat to get your strength up. Is there anything else you'd be needing?"

The state he was in, that simple kindness was almost his undoing. He took a moment, hoping she would assume he was thinking it over instead of trying to find his voice again. "No madam, I believe that indulgence will more that satisfy my needs at this time. Please add the sum to my balance and I shall be by to make good on my account soon."

"Don't you be worrying about rushing that. I'm not." She smiled warmly and darted back into her store. Ezra stood in place, staring for several seconds as tried to understand what had been said.

"She trusts you. Plain as that." Chris had watched the byplay from the window of the jailhouse, and now came outside, bringing an extra chair with him. He signaled to Ezra to sit down, and it was clear it was more of an order than a suggestion.

It took a bit of time for him to find a comfortable position, but eventually he settled down and picked up where the conversation had stopped.

"She is a fool to do so."

"Well, it's not like you plan on going anywhere, and even if you did, she figures you'd settle up first."

"My history does not support that supposition."

Chris grinned wryly. "Don't think she cares much about your history – Mrs. Potter is more the type to judge someone on current actions."

"That still makes her a fool."

"Do you plan on cheating her?"

"Of course not."

His grin widened. "So just how does any of that make her a fool? I'd say she is a decent judge of character myself."

As much as he enjoyed a good debate, especially when he knew that not only was he right, but the argument would serve as an irritant to Chris, Ezra simply didn't feel up to it. Instead, he nodded slightly, then closed his eyes and tilted his head back to enjoy the warmth of the sun on his face.

Chris watched him. It was worrying to see the lines of pain back, and the evident fatigue that even this short outing had brought on. Three weeks of healing had helped, but it looked like there was still a way to go.

"I do feel better than before Mr. Larabee. Your apprehension, while appreciated, is not warranted."

Of course Standish would know what he'd been thinking. "Was just wondering how long it is 'til I can put you back out on patrol."

"No doubt Mr. Jackson will have a say in that matter. I will defer to his expertise."

Knowing Nathan would definitely err on the side of caution, Ezra was more than happy to extend his rest period for as long as possible. As long as the restrictions didn't keep him from the card table.

"You might want to know I've been in touch with your mother."

Ezra nearly fell out of his chair. Of all the thousands of things that Chris might have said that one never would have entered his mind. "She sent you a telegram around the same time you got hurt. Figured I should let her know why you didn't answer her."

"Mother and I do not always respond promptly to missives. You needn't have troubled yourself."

"No trouble. She was worried about you." He paused, waiting for the response. When he got none, he fed out a bit more of the story. "Seems she thought you might be in some danger from Morrison and her friends. And that she didn't trust them."

Ezra hedged. "You claimed you read my letter to you Mr. Larabee. That should tell you all you need to know. I would prefer to not dwell on the matter any further. Did mother respond to you?" Please God, don't let her be coming here now. That was decidedly more than he could cope with. Besides, he was just beginning to feel he might be able to stay here, and there was no doubt in his mind that if anyone could destroy that possibility, it was Maude.

"Just to thank me, and say she'd come when it was convenient."

With any luck, that wouldn't be the case for some time to come. Or ever. He couldn't imagine why it would ever be convenient for her to come to a place like Four Corners.

"Well, I shall have to put off the celebration of an imminent arrival then. Now, if you will be so kind as to excuse me…" He made a move to stand and let out a soft moan as muscles objected to the effort and a wave of dizziness followed.

Chris was instantly on his feet and reaching out to support him. "You need a hand Ez? I can get Josiah over here – help get you across and upstairs."

"No, thank you. One such spectacle was sufficient. Just give me a moment for the town to stop spinning and I will be fine."

"Good afternoon Mr. Standish."

He turned his head quickly at the unexpected greeting and felt the earth tilt again. As unobtrusively as possible, Chris pressed his hand against Ezra's back to keep him from toppling over.

"Mrs. Travis. What an unanticipated pleasure to see you."

"Oh, I doubt that Mr. Standish." She paused, lost for what to say next. She had rehearsed this moment a hundred or more times in her head, but now facing the moment of truth, she found the words failed her.

"Please don't madam. There is no need for you to address recent matters. Your compassion and humanity were preyed upon by a woman who possesses neither trait. You were a victim in all of this, and it is I who should be apologizing to you for the role I played in creating such a vile creature."

She shook her head in a combination of shock and disagreement. "You are apologizing to me after my actions resulted in shame and danger for you. You deserved better from this town, and I am deeply ashamed of the part I had in all of this. I hope some day you can forgive me."

"As I said, there is no need, but if it will make you feel better, allow me to say the incident is one I prefer to not expend my energies on and therefore it need be discussed no further."

It wasn't the resolution she had envisioned, but pushing the issue now, when he was clearly drained for the day, would be unnecessary, not to mention cruel. She gave him her warmest smile and reached out to gently touch his arm.

"If that is what will satisfy you, then I will do as requested."

Chris tilted his head to her, signalling it would be best for her to move along. He could feel how much Ezra was leaning against his hand in an effort to stay standing and he didn't think the act would last much longer. Taking the cue, Mary scurried away, using the excuse she needed to get back to her work.

When the way was clear, Chris moved close enough that no one else would hear his question. "Can you make it back home?"

It was just across the street, but it might as well have been a mile away. And the recollection that there were stairs to be scaled before he could lie down again sapped him of the last of his confidence. "Perhaps, but I fear the effort will likely prove embarrassing."

"Come with me." Chris turned him and guided him slowly into the jail, propping him against the desk as he retrieved the keys from the drawer and unlocked the cell. "Why he's locks the damn thing when no one is in there is something JD never has been able to explain to me." Before leading Ezra to the cot, he went into the second cell and grabbed the mattress from it. "Not going to be the most comfortable spot to lie down, but you can catch your breath."

"At the moment, it looks quite acceptable, I assure you."

Ezra sat down slowly on the edge and basically fell over onto the pillow. Chris helped him get settled and stepped away to get a blanket.

"You rest as long as you need to. I'll come by in a bit to see how you're doing, and if you're up to it, Vin and I will help you get back to your room."

He opened out the blanket and looked down. Ezra was soundly sleeping, with a faint smile on his face.

"Guess I should say we'll get you back home."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	24. Chapter 24

Angrily, Annabella stormed into the ramshackle dive that passed for a saloon in this town. If they weren't in there, she had no idea where to look for the missing men, but that didn't mean she was going to give up. She'd foolishly assumed everything was exactly as planned when Chris and Buck left town that day three weeks ago. She'd even been lucky enough to have the others occupied enough that no one took notice of her departure. She'd almost been sorry to have to leave before Buck got back, but there was no way a farewell scene would be to her advantage. No, skipping out to meet her partners as they had planned was the only logical course of events. Little did she dream those two would have had the nerve to cheat her out of her share and leave her waiting at the rendezvous point.

Well, they weren't going to get away with it. There was too much at stake here – all that money, not to mention her reputation. She could well imagine the bragging they would be doing about conning the expert. Cheating her out of her hard earned share of the prize. The fact that she had planned to do the same to them was irrelevant. She was the brains of the operation while they were no more than hired muscle. Dime a dozen hoods she could find anywhere. Even in a town like this – wherever the hell **this** was.

She scanned the room, looking for familiar faces and was pleased when she spotted one. Not the one she was looking for, but a suitable replacement. Toliver was a decent conman himself. Not terribly sophisticated or adept at the long play, but handy for a front man or similar supporting character. Quick with a gun, excellent in a fight. And, not the worst looking companion to travel with. No Buck Wilmington, but close, and without that annoying streak of morality. Plastering a grin on her face, she made her way over.

"Lester Toliver. As I live and breathe. Didn't expect to be running into you again, especially not out here."

"When the law is after you, you do all kinds of things you wouldn't normally consider. I imagine that's what brought you here Bella."

God, how she hated that abbreviation. "Let's just say I'm looking for someone. Don't suppose you've seen Harlan Davis or Cyrus around, have you?"

"Not in these parts."

Damnation. They must have headed south. Nothing else made sense but to get out of the territory, if not the country. She supposed she'd have to send some telegrams with the increasingly faint hope of finding them.

"Aren't you going to offer to buy a lady a drink?"

"I would if there was one here."

Annabella laughed loudly. "Could always count on you to not sugar things up. How 'bout I buy you one instead? You can entertain me with what you've been up to lately. Any interesting games in play?"

They took a table near the back and spoke quietly for close to half an hour, each lying to the other about their escapades, and each knowing the tales were false. It was the way business was done.

"Tell me Lester, have you got anything interesting going right now?"

"Maybe. I think I'm going to have some money coming to me soon. Why? You have an idea?"

"I do if you'd like a share of some serious cash. You help me track down Harlan and Cyrus and it will be well worth your time. I betting this is more than whatever you might be expecting from any game you'd be doing here."

Standing, he put his hat on and took her hand. "Perhaps we should discuss this in private. Lots of eager ears in here." He led her toward the back entrance and out to the alley way. A strong glare from him chased away a lingering drunk, leaving them in privacy.

She was about to offer her best 'come hither' smile when she saw the ice cold look in his eyes.

"Guessing you haven't heard about Harlan and Cyrus being dead, have you?"

She took a half step back. Dead? No. That wasn't possible. She'd been chasing ghosts?

"Ambushed on that little job outside of Four Corners. Damn woman, how stupid are you? Going up against Larabee and his bunch the way you three did. You need a small army to move in on that town now."

Being called stupid by this oaf did wonders to bring her back to reality. "Yes, if you plan a head-on attack. But we were smarter than that."

"Yeah, you guys were brilliant. So much so that your boys didn't ever make it back to town. Not alive anyway."

"How do you know this?"

"From people in town when their bodies were brought back. It was a set up sweetheart. They were on to you, and them boys of yours paid the price. Way I hear it, the only reason that Wilmington fella and all his friends didn't come after you was that a couple his buddies were hurt, and he needed to stick around."

It was a poor silver lining to her cloud but it was better than none at all. Even if the whole plan had fallen to pieces, at least she wasn't being hunted down. It only made sense that by now they'd all figured out what had really happened, and the thought that Buck and likely a few others were tracking her had definitely been a concern. It sounded like they weren't. Or if they were now, they weren't close behind.

"Well," she turned on the southern charm, "looks like the two of us will have to come up with a new scheme. What about this game you have running now? Any way I can help make it more lucrative?"

"Oh sweetheart, you're already a part of it." Before she could register what he'd said, his weapon was drawn and aimed at her. "There's a bounty out on your head, and I aim to be the one to collect it."

"Don't be ridiculous. You know I am worth far more to you as a partner than as a bounty."

"Really? You figure you're worth $10,000 to me?"

She stared, flabbergasted by the sum. "That's ludicrous. The law would never put that kind of bounty on someone like me. Someone is lying to you."

"Not the law. This one is personal."

He wouldn't. He couldn't. "Buck Wilmington could not be offering ten thousand dollars. The bunch of them together couldn't come up with one tenth of that, even if they sold everything they owned. Hell, that whole town couldn't."

"Didn't say it was them. Money is guaranteed. Don't know where it came from, and don't really care. Oh, and this isn't a dead or alive kind of deal. She doesn't want you alive."

She? Katie McHenry wanted revenge for an operation gone bad? That didn't make sense. She wouldn't squander money that way.

"Look, whatever Katie is offering, I'll find a way to make more for you. Let's not be foolish about this. We'll just tell her you killed me and collect. We can use that to bankroll all kinds of ideas."

"Wrong. I told you – personal. A message comes with it. 'Nobody hurts my boy and walks away from it.' He looked her in the eye. "I ain't stupid enough to lie to Maude Standish."

She only just had time to register that he'd said hurts and not kills before the shot was fired.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

The End


End file.
